


Misled

by Jtargaryen18 (snowqueen79), snowqueen79



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark!Steve, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-06-26 06:51:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19762837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/Jtargaryen18, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/snowqueen79
Summary: A Tumblr request just for Lok1sgrl who requested "I'd love a quick Dark Steve story from you where the reader had a one night stand with Steve but he's far from being done with her."So here goes. It'll be a bumpy ride in a handful of chapters. Read the tags. If non-con isn't for you, please give this a pass.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’d just knocked back your fourth shot of Jack. It really _did_ make it easier to laugh at the stories of your co-workers who talked endlessly about their kids and their cats. The pretty redhead who worked in the cubicle next to yours got up from her seat at your table to go to the bathroom, giving you a clear view of the bar.

It was the third time you’d looked at him, sitting there at the end of the bar and facing it. A nice-looking man with dark gold hair and a beard, big and muscular - just like you liked them. He was dressed plainly enough in jeans, a black jacket. He wasn’t there to get attention, but he got it anyway because he was one hell of an imposing figure. He’d gotten there not long after you had, drinking fat glasses of whiskey and watching the baseball game playing on the widescreen over the bar.

He looked so _familiar_.

“You okay?” your other co-worker asked.

You nodded. “Sorry.”

“Checking out the snack at the bar,” she teased you.

You huffed out a humorless laugh at that.

And you noticed that he’d turned his head just slightly in your direction and you were facing the same direction he was.

_What?_

_It’s the alcohol, stupid._ It’s wasn’t like he could hear what you were talking about in the noisy din of the busy bar.

“He’s a snack alright,” you told her. “Way out of _my_ league.”

She shook her head at you, but her expression was friendly. “Not true. You look hot tonight. Go talk to him.”

Taking a drink from the glass of water you’d requested, you thought maybe you should think about sobering up a little and making an exit. Something about that guy…

“You should do something about _that_ ,” she went on, jerking a thumb back in his direction. “When was the last time you got laid?”

The last time you’d been laid?

It had been well over a year ago. A one-night stand that had started out a lot like tonight.

And you weren’t that type. It had been your _only_ one-night stand. Outside of one serious relationship just after college, it was your only other sexual experience.

And what an experience it had been.

That relationship had ended. You were just out of college, not having any lucking finding a job and panicking about paying student loans. In hindsight, you’d realized that you had no business going to a bar and getting plastered with your friends in such a vulnerable place.

But you had. And he’d been in a similar place, lonely and disillusioned. That you hadn’t immediately recognized him made you feel stupid even though he’d seemed genuinely pleased that you’d been talking for an hour or so before putting together that he was Steve Rogers. _The_ Steve Rogers.

In your inebriated state, you’d eventually explained that you weren’t looking for Mr. Right that night. Just Mr. Right _Now_. And you still couldn’t believe you’d actually said that.

But he’d been more than happy to accommodate you, taking you back to a nice apartment here in Brooklyn and spending several hours completely rocking your world. You honest-to-God would have felt guilty for having a one-nighter with Captain America of all people except that he’d seemed to need the release as much as you had.

And sex with him had been… _breathtaking._

Sometime before dawn that morning, when you’d been about to drift off to sleep, he’d pulled you back against him. In a voice rough from sleep, he’d told you he wanted to see you again. He wanted to take you to breakfast if you’d let him.

You’d panicked. You weren’t proud of it, but you could admit it to yourself now.

You’d been nowhere close to finding your own way, defining who _you_ were. The damage that one relationship had done to you left you reeling. The last thing you needed was another relationship. And one with an Avenger who had a whole lot of baggage?

Panic bled on insecurity and it had sent you scurrying out of his apartment the minute you thought he was sleeping soundly enough. You hated leaving that way. You did. You hated that he’d be disappointed that you fled like a coward. You hated that he’d probably be left with the impression that you were some sort of slut who fucked and ran a lot.

You had regrets. While you weren’t entirely sure you would have made a different decision where he was concerned, you definitely would have changed _how_ you handled it.

And since then, Captain America had become a war criminal, on the run from the law and the government.

“The last time I got laid? So long ago that it’s a sad story,” you said finally to her. “I probably should think about getting home.”

“It’s Friday night,” she told you. “You’ve got the weekend off. Live a little.”

The redhead returned to her seat. “What did I miss?”

“I’m trying to get her to go talk to the hottie at the bar,” the other woman explained.

Then, to your horror, they both flagrantly turned around to ogle him.

Pulling a couple of bills from your purse, you left them on the table and shook your head.

“I’m good,” you said. “I’ve got to go. It was fun.”

They were disappointed at your early exit but each rose to hug you before you made your way out of the bar and into the chilly night. The sense of relief you felt in escaping the bar and walking up the sidewalk was palpable.

You grinned when you reached your apartment. You still had a nice buzz going and you were looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep, sleeping in. Tossing your purse onto your couch, you stretched and headed to your kitchen for a glass of water before heading for the peace and comfort of your bedroom.

Your heart lurched in your chest when a rough hand covered your mouth and a strong arm wrapped around you like a band of steel. Your water glass fell to the floor, the wet contents splashing your feet and the strappy heels you wore.

“Hi, Y/N,” an all-too-familiar voice purred in your ear in the darkness.

Heated lips coasted just above the skin of your throat, the tickle of facial hair making your shiver. He held you there in the darkness, hard against his solid form as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

At that moment, you realized why the man at the bar had seemed familiar.

It was Steve Rogers.

And he’d followed you home.

"So you have the weekend off," Steve said before teasing the shell of your ear with his hot mouth. "I need a place to lay low. Let's have a little fun."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags and warnings. I'm serious.

“If I move my hand, you’re going to keep nice and quiet, right?” Steve’s voice was low in your ear.

You nodded quickly, your breath coming fast. You weren’t stupid.

Just like that, his hand fell away but his hold on you remained.

“Steve?” your voice didn’t sound nearly as calm as it had in your head. “What… are y-you doing here?”

Another brush of those sinful lips against the space where your neck and shoulder met, making you shudder. The alcohol blended with a huge dose of adrenaline to heighten your senses. You were shaking violently in his grasp. You felt like you were about to jump out of your skin.

“Breathe.” His hot breath pelted your ear. “If you hyperventilate, I’m just going to wait until you come around. I'd rather not.”

_Wait for what?_

But the heated ridge pressed against your ass adequately answered that question.

Surely, he didn’t mean to…

The rough pads of his fingers brushed your hair back from the side of your face, lightly gripping your chin and turning your head towards him.

“What’s wrong, doll?” His eyes glittered at you in the muted light of your bedroom. There was a hardness, a wildness there that hadn’t been before. The beard gave him a decidedly dangerous look, gave the strong lines of his face a sharper edge. “Not happy to see me?”

_You should have known better._

You should never have spent that one night with him back when. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was a celebrity of sorts. It had been a reckless, stupid-ass decision that put you in danger. Very _real_ danger. It was bad enough that you’d put yourself in such a position. But you were in the clutches of a war criminal, a fallen god who could easily kill you in a million different ways.

“I am,” you said quietly.

His grip on your tightened painfully. “Don’t lie to me,” he warned.

Tears stung the backs of your eyes. You were in trouble here.

“Please don’t... hurt me,” you whispered. “I’m…”

Tears had the words sticking in your throat.

“You’re what?” he demanded, his grip on you compressing your ribs.

“Sorry,” you managed. “I’m… sorry about… before…”

His chuckle was a menacing sound in the quiet of the room.

“You’re sorry, huh?” Steve shook his head. “Why? Because there are consequences now?”

“I mean it,” you tried.

More pressure around your body. “If you keep lying to me, you’re just going to make it worse for yourself.”

_But you did mean it._

And if he squeezed you any harder, you wouldn’t be able to breathe to talk.

“Worse?” you whispered.

“I was surprised you were able to sneak out without my knowing,” he said frankly, releasing his grip on you and casually walking around you to take a seat at the foot of your bed. He shrugged out of his jacket, and slung it over the edge of the bed, all the while keeping his eyes on you. “I was surprised that you went back to my place with me at all. You didn’t seem the type.”

You weren’t.

“You took off without so much as a thank you,” he said with a smirk. “I’m not going to lie. I felt… used.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you took a calming breath. “I’m really… sorry, Steve. I’m _not_ the type. I shouldn’t have…”

You tried to stare him down, willing him to believe you.

Steve had been such a sweet guy then. A perfect gentleman, a tender lover. What happened?

The man before you – yeah, he was still gorgeous – but he was a dark shadow of the man you’d spent the night with. His savage eyes, his hardened face. They were different. _He_ was different. And while it wasn’t completely clear _why_ he was on the wrong side of the law, now he was a criminal.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he told you, the smirk fading from his face. “But you _did_ spend the night with me then. And you’re going to spend the night with me _now_. As I recall, you’d just wanted easy sex that night, right?”

_God, had you said that?_ You’d been so drunk you knew it was possible. Your eyes slid closed as the realization of what was about to happen hit you full force.

“I gave you that,” he went on. “And now you’re going to return the favor.”

Your eyes flew open. He was serious.

A tear slid from the corner of your eye.

“Please, Steve… I don’t… I don’t want to do… this,” you struggled to say.

“Really don’t care, doll,” he said matter-of-factly. “Now you can be a good girl and strip for me, or I can do it. You might not enjoy that as much and I can’t promise I’ll be careful with your clothes in the state I’m in.”

The state he was in…

Your breathing escalated. Your heart flew.

Your gaze searched the room looking for any way out because you know you didn’t stand a chance of defending yourself against him physically.

“Don’t try it,” he warned you, pulling off the dark-colored Henley he wore now.

Your gaze was riveted to the impressive muscular display of his upper body, pale and scarred in the faint light from the one small window in your bedroom. His gaze darkened at your interest.

“I didn’t think I was that _bad_ ,” Steve said with a chuckle. “You seemed to enjoy it. If I remember right, you came… Several times.”

Shame had your face going up in flames. Yes, he’d made you come. Many times. He’d worked your body that night in ways you’d never even imagined.

That hadn’t been the reason you’d left. It had intimidated you, sure. But it hadn’t been the reason you’d fled like a coward.

You'd been trying to protect your heart.

“Oh, don’t try to play the good girl card with me now,” Steve warned you. “I think we both know better…”

Fear froze you to the spot. Yes, you’d had sex with him before. But he was different. He scared you. And that didn’t give him the right to break into your apartment and demand it again from you now.

But you got the feeling that if you didn’t go along willingly, he’d just take what he wanted.

“Not going to tell you again,” his voice lowered. One hand slid over the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans. “Strip.”

You remembered the size of him. How could you not? You couldn’t lie. It had felt good.

But it had been all you could do to walk back to your apartment that night after you snuck out. You’d been sore for days after.

_What choice did you have?_

Shaking so badly you knew he could see it, you pulled off the light sweater you wore over your dress, dropping it to the carpeted floor. Reaching behind you, you slowly pulled down the zipper, loosening the form-fitting bodice of your dress. You lowered the dress down your body, sending it to pool at your feet.

His gaze was heated as it roamed over you. Your lace bra was nice, your panties didn’t match and weren’t anything special. Your thigh-highs matched your skin, had lace tops. It was those that had his attention.

“Take off the rest,” his voice was a touch less demanding. “Not the stockings.”

More tears slid down your face. “Please,” you begged him. “Please don’t.”

He was on his feet in a second and on you in the next beat before you could back away from him. The snap of your bra being torn from you stung your skin and your panties gave way with quiet rip when he snatched those away.

You were flying through the air and landing on your own bed in a daze, scrambling in fear as he stalked up the bed to grab your ankles and pull you flat beneath him.

Your fight or flight instinct finally kicked in and you tried your best to fight him off. It wasn’t much of a fight. Within seconds he subdued you with a firm hand around your neck, holding you to the mattress with threatening pressure but not enough to hurt or keep you from breathing.

“You done?”

You swallowed under that huge hand and that dark gaze above you, nodding.

All you could do was hope he didn’t hurt you. Kill you.

His mouth was on yours in a heated, possessive kiss that took your breath after a few seconds. Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss and his tongue slid against yours. He tasted like the whiskey he’d been drinking and something darker. Frustration. _Desolation._

He moaned into your mouth, a deep rumbling sound, and some of his weight dropped over you. When his lips scorched a path down your neck, across the line of your shoulder, you were fighting to breathe, your hands trying ineffectually to pry his away from your neck.

His other rough hand slid down over your breast and your body betrayed you, your nipple tightening into a hard little peak and pushing against his palm. Lifting his head, he smirked at you.

“See? Your body remembers me,” he whispered.

When his hot mouth wrapped around that same nipple, his tongue swirling circles around that aching tip, you were arching up against him. Your thighs were rubbing against each other, seeking friction despite the fear that gripped your alcohol-riddled mind.

As if in answer to that, rough fingers slid between your thighs and delved into your embarrassingly slick folds. That had him groaning as his mouth roamed across to your other breast. You’d forgotten how good he’d been with his hands. He teased your clit with easy, maddeningly-light circles until you thought you’d lose your mind. Your legs clamped around that hand, but it didn’t do a damn thing to stop him.

“So quiet,” he murmured, pressing kisses down your stomach, over your tummy. “Holding out on me?”

He had to let go of your neck to do what you thought he meant to do next and it gave you a beat to try to and get away from him. His arms wrapped around your legs in a way that pretty much immobilized your lower body and held you open for him.

You tried to push his head away as he focused on the aching flesh between your thighs. Your heart was flying, your body humming. In the moment, you weren’t sure if you were gripped by lust or terror.

“Please… don’t,” you tried, pushing at his forehead with the heels of your hand.

“You didn’t complain _before_ ,” he grumbled before he dove for you with his mouth.

Steve got what he wanted. Using his mouth on you in ways that probably weren’t legal somewhere. You ended up with your hands clutched in his hair, hanging on. You fought hard to keep from making sounds. If you couldn’t keep him from taking what he wanted, you’d be damned if you’d give him that satisfaction.

But it was a weak rebellion. The harder you tried to stay quiet, the more he went at you. The first orgasm he wrenched from you came from his tongue alone. When his fingers slid into you, before you’d even come down, he’d immediately found a spot deep inside and he used it drive you insane. He brought you off again and by the time you were coming down from that release, he wasn’t holding you down at all. He was above you removing his jeans, wearing nothing underneath. You were sprawled on the bed, panting beneath him.

Steve collared your wrists in one hand, pressing them into the mattress above your head. His muscled thighs pushed yours wider and he lined himself up at your entrance.

“Ready for me?” he asked, the question a little less snarky than you thought he intended. He looked wrecked above you, a hint of desperation in his face as he began to push into you.

You sucked in a breath. He was _huge_. Maybe that other time you’d been a lot drunker than you were at the moment. As your inner walls stretched and trembled to accommodate him, your thighs locked around his narrow waist.

He took it as acquiescence.

“That’s more like it,” he whispered.

“God,” Steve huffed once he’d bottomed out inside you, “just like I remember... You feel so fucking good.”

Before you could even think about responding to that, he began to move. His strokes were firm from the beginning, but it wasn’t long until he was riding you with abandon, the bed slamming against the wall with each thrust of his hips. You gasped, you cried out. You felt yourself tightening around him despite everything, as he held onto your wrists and hip with a grip that was borderline painful.

His expression was a wicked blend of lust and determination. You couldn’t help but feel he was purging his soul of some pain, some sin, and using your body to do it. You came for the third time on his driving cock, the world fading around the edges for you as your body squeezed him rhythmically, again and again.

“Love the way your pussy’s squeezing me,” he muttered breathlessly, his movements never ceasing. “Give me one more.”

_Oh, God._ You _couldn’t_.

You shook your head, trying to gather enough breath to speak, but his fingers were already there, touching your clit in a way that was both clinical and delicate until you felt yourself rising on that wave again. Your heart was slamming in your chest and your lungs struggled to pull air. Your lower body was aching as his huge cock kept driving into you and his devilish fingers drove you on. Pain and pleasure blended until you screamed out your orgasm, your entire body feeling like it was spasming while he held you down, kept fucking you through it.

The world did fade for you then. Somewhere, it sounded so distant, you heard his rough cry as he found his own release. When the storm settled, your aching body curled in on itself, onto your side.

You wanted to sink into that blackness, be lost to it. You were just on the edge of it when warmth enveloped you, helping to ease the tension in your limbs, the ache that had spread everywhere.

“That was good,” a deep voice in that darkness whispered to you. “Sleep.”

And you did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, mind the warnings. 18+ only, please.

You awoke alone late the next day, tired and sore.

And more than a little shaken.

Steve had allowed you to sleep until just before dawn. You woke up to the soft, heated press of lips at your jaw and the hard press of his fingers on your thighs, spreading you open for him. He took your breath away when he entered you again, the sting of soreness making you wince at first.

It wasn’t long until pain gave way to pleasure. You hadn’t asked for any of it, granted. But the pleasure was better than pain and that time was… different.

Compared to the night before, Steve's touch, his movements had been careful. Instead of grabbing your hips or your limbs to place you how he wanted you, his fingers smoothed over your skin. Lowering himself above you on his forearms, he let you wrap around him like a vine in your sleepy, exhausted state. He continued a steady rhythm inside you. His fingers slid into your hair gently, his lips rained light kisses over your face, neck, and shoulders.

When Steve hit a space inside you that had you seeing stars, you gasped into the darkness of your bedroom, holding onto him like a life raft in a storm. Having found what he was looking for, enough of his weight dropped on you to hold you in place as he aimed for your g-spot each time and hit that mark.

He made you come once, twice… By the third time you were rising on the wave of release, you were drifting in and out of consciousness. Between the night before and that morning, you were so beyond anything you’d ever experienced before. You didn’t know if you’d come again but you guessed that you had. You found evidence later that he’d found _his_ release.

You’d slept through him leaving your bed, getting dressed… You were left naked and sprawled on your stomach on your bed with the covers draped over your lower body. You thought you’d remembered him sitting on the edge of your bed, a hand sifting through your hair as you fought to keep your eyes open.

With the pastels of dawn filtering through your window, painting his face, in one of the few lucid moments you had before he left, you saw a wild storm of emotion blended on his face. _Desire. Regret. Lust. Concern._ His covetous gaze on you had been intense and you could sense his inner conflict even as you lingered on the fringes of sleep.

“I’ll see you soon,” it was both a warning and a lover’s promise. The last thing you felt was the brush of his lips, the scratch of his beard on your cheek. Then he was gone, the front door of your apartment closing quietly.

Your phone told you it was just after three in the afternoon when you awoke. It had taken a lot of effort to pull yourself up in your bed. Tears came on as you saw the faint bruises on your skin, felt his release dried on your thighs. The mirror showed you the dark marks of his affections on your throat, your shoulders, even one on a tender breast.

You tried to tell yourself in a hot bath later that it was the price you’d paid for that one night the year before. You shouldn’t have gone home with a stranger. You shouldn’t have left his place as you had. You shouldn’t have misled someone who wasn’t an everyday person like you…

Your regrets threatened to drown you in your thoughts when you went back to work Monday. Weeks passed, and autumn’s chill drew closer. You were aware that you had a habit now of being aware of your surroundings wherever you went. Looking over your shoulder became second nature. When you reached your apartment each evening, you searched it extensively before you could relax and rest from your day.

Just before Halloween, you’d gotten an envelope from the apartment building’s admin and in it were your last three rent checks with a note explaining your rent had been paid for the rest of the year. At first, you’d thought a mistake had been made and you decided to try to get in to talk to someone about it.

Then it occurred to you what may have happened. Who might have been involved…

_Steve._ Had he paid your rent?

Why? Did he feel bad for breaking into your place and fucking you unconscious? Was that it?

Was it done in hopes that you wouldn’t tell anyone?

_Who_ were you going to tell? Your friends and coworkers? They would have told you to go to the police, to press charges.

_Right._

Steve Rogers was one of the most wanted men in the world. And if the best legal authorities in the world couldn’t bring him in, you’d just be wasting your time.

Besides, if you took your story to the police, Steve would know somehow. You knew he would. He could seek retribution. He could hurt you. _Kill you_.

In your heart of hearts, you blamed yourself. It was your fault he’d sought you out in the first place. Your fault he’d done what he had to you. It was payback for going home with him, then skipping out on him.

And the cherry atop the shit sundae? You’d enjoyed most of it. Too often your mind drifted to those terrifying moments in your bedroom, in your bed. If you tried, you could still feel his hands all over you…

Just when you started to feel safe again, convinced yourself that it was a one-time deal and finally started to relax, he threw your world into chaos again.

It started on Devil’s Night, the night before Halloween. You received a text from an unknown number. You assumed it was spam but when you opened it, there was a sketchy number and no subject.

Just a picture of you lying in your bed, just as he’d left you that morning. You’d been lying on your stomach, your hair a wild halo about your head and pillows. The covers only covered your lower body with your legs exposed.

The text in the message simply read: _Missing you_.

Your blood ran cold. _What did that mean?_ Was he coming back?

It unraveled all your efforts to try and get yourself back to a sense of normalcy.

Halloween night was Thursday and your coworkers had managed to convince you to go to the bar for a costume party. You’d changed at work into the only Halloween costume you owned, a sexy schoolgirl outfit you’d gotten for a party a couple of years ago.

You were nervous as hell about wearing that under the circumstances. But Janet, the redhead you worked with, wouldn’t take no for an answer. So you put on the white shirt that tied just under your breasts, the little plaid skirt that barely reached mid-thigh. Tall white socks, big-framed dummy glasses, and black Mary Janes went with the outfit. You put your hair up into long pigtails on either side of your head.

Janet grinned as you got ready to leave the office, pulling your coat on to keep you warm – and covered – until you got there.

“You’re missing something,” she said before digging in her purse.

Pulling out a tube of pink lipstick, she stopped an expertly applied it to your lips before stepping back to admire her work. “Perfect. _I’d_ fuck you.”

You had to laugh at that even though it was a nervous sound.

“Are you okay?” she asked after a minute. “You seem, I don’t know... anxious lately.”

What were you supposed to say to that?

“Just, ah, struggling with stuff sometimes… you know,” you explained carefully.

“Let’s get some drinks in you and you’ll be just fine,” she said warmly, pulling her coat over her own naughty policewoman costume.

“Janet?”

“Hmm?”

“If I drink too much,” you asked tentatively because honestly, it could be taken as a weird request, “can I come crash at your place tonight?”

Janet surprised you by giving you a warm hug. “Of course. Unless I get lucky. Or _you_ do.”

Her laughter rang through the hallway as you left the office building, the thought of “getting lucky” leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

The bar was hopping with activity when you arrived, the four of you were lucky to find a table. The girl from accounting was dressed as Red Riding Hood and her smile was big.

“Let’s get started,” she called out.

You’d decided to split pitchers of beer and by the time you’d all put away two and a half, you’d all but forgotten why you should be so worried. You danced with the women you came with, you danced with a couple of college guys who couldn’t be that much younger than you if they were at all. You and Janet had locked forearms and were doing a sexy little dance together while your two companions cheered you on, not to mention the other catcalls from guys in the bar. You were grateful for Janet because you were buzzed and unsteady on your feet. She thought it was funny, but she held you up just the same.

At the end of the dance, you had to pee. _Badly._ You made a beeline for the bathroom, in less of a hurry to get back. You darted out of the bathroom door and collided with a tall solid form. Arms wrapped around you right there in the bar, his mouth claimed yours in a heated, possessive guess that had you weaving in his clutches.

Steve, dressed in a nice sweater, jeans, and long, black dress coat, smiled down at you as if he were your boyfriend, your lover. That smile didn’t reach his gorgeous blue eyes. He had your coat in his hands, turning you and putting it on you as if you were a small child. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he guided you back into the main area of the bar where he casually plucked the strap of your purse off the back of your chair.

The three women you came with were all staring at him, two of them smiling brightly. Only Janet seemed a little surprised.

“Hey, ladies,” he said loud enough to be heard over the chorus of party voices and sounds, “I’m taking this one home while she can still walk.”

“Who are you?” Janet asked, her smile tentative.

“Her boyfriend?” Steve cut his gaze playfully to you and back while you just stared at him, paralyzed in your scared, drunken state. “At least, I’m applying for the job. Promise I’ll get her home to bed and take very good care of her.”

The other two cut awestruck eyes at each other before nodded to him. Janet’s gaze landed on you. “Why didn’t you tell me about _him_?”

“I—”

“Her last boyfriend was a real ass to her and this? Me? It’s been… triggering for her,” he explained kindly. “That’s why we're taking things slow... I’m just grateful she’s even giving me a chance.”

You knew the moment Janet bought that very sincere-sounding story. Her expression softened and her gaze riveted on Steve. 

Internally you were screaming. _Don’t you recognize him? It’s Steve Rogers! He’s a criminal._

“Take good care of her,” she told him, and the chorus of their byes haunted you as he steered you out into the chilly night and up the sidewalk in the direction of your apartment building. You were too afraid not to go along, your heart beating out a painful staccato in your chest. He had a good look at your coworkers and friends now. You didn’t want him to threaten them.

All too quickly, you found yourself at the door of your apartment and your hand was shaking so badly, you were struggling to unlock the door. Steve snatched the key out of your hand and let you both in. Your bag dropped to the floor as he locked the door behind you and began stalking you through your living room.

Steve pulled off his heavy coat as he kept his heated gaze on you, dropping it onto the couch.

“Look at _you_ ,” his tone was all but casual. “What were you after all dressed up like _this_?”

Tears stung the backs of your eyes, your nightmare of his return unfolding in front of you.

“Please, Steve,” you pleaded with him. “It’s for Halloween. That’s all… Please go. I can’t… I mean…”

Your back hit the wall in your living room by your television. Steve pushed the sleeves of his sweater up to reveal heavily muscled forearms and he planted a hand on the wall on each side of your head, caging you in.

“Oh, come on Sweetheart,” Steve smirked at you as he leaned in closer. “I _did_ pay for your rent. Doesn’t that get me anything?”

Okay, so you were right about that.

“Thank you,” you said meekly, “but I didn’t… I didn’t ask you… I mean… Steve…”

His lips again claimed yours. When he angled his head to deepen that kiss and his tongue swept into your mouth. You were trying to turn your head to break the kiss. He wasn’t having it. Steve continued kissing you breathless, pushing one of his heavily muscled thighs between yours and applying pressure against the apex of your thighs.

You’d had more than you should have to drink, and you knew better. Knew that _this_ was a possibility. Truth be told, he was holding you to the wall, his lips blazing a trail across your jaw to your neck. The way his lips and beard felt against your skin had your thighs clutching around his, trying to get the friction you needed. You didn’t immediately realize you were arching your body to help him as his hands moved over your breasts, your ass. You weren’t immediately aware that your hands clawed at his back with longing.

Steve did.

Lifting his head, his gaze assessed you and he chuckled.

“Liar,” he whispered. “You can tell me you don’t want me… want _this_ …”

His lips scorched a trail from behind your ear to the base of your neck and you shook your head, feebly trying to fend him off with your hands.

“Yes, you do,” Steve’s hands grabbed the front of your coat and wrenched it off your body. Plucking the fake glasses from your face, he threw them over his shoulder. “If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have gone home with me in the first place.”

You tried to duck under one of his arms, to cut and run. Steve easily caught you from behind, wrapping his arms around your body and hauling you over the couch where he bent you over the back of it.

“And this?” Steve’s laugh was a deep, rich sound as his hand smoothed up the back of your thigh and over your ass. “This was just unexpected. I love the outfit. I hate that those men saw so much of you… but damn.”

His hips kept you pressed into the couch, kept you off balance so he was in control. The hard, hot length of him encased in his jeans had you trembling in fear.

Had you pushing back to rub yourself against him for relief.

He ripped off your panties, the quiet sound causing your trembling to escalate. His fingers slid into the crease of your ass, into your folds and you couldn’t hold back the moan at the feeling of them teasing your clit, tracing your weeping opening.

Steve hummed behind you. “So wet. You want my mouth on you?”

Oh, you _did_. You were so ashamed of that fact, but it didn’t change it.

A hard, stinging slap landed on your ass cheek. “I didn’t catch that.”

You were trying to hold yourself up on the cushions at the front of the couch, your angle awkward. You slowly shook your head.

“What did I say about lying to me?” Steve slapped your other ass cheek. “Do you want my mouth on you?”

When you didn’t answer, he full-on began to spank you until you howled, until your neighbor in 2401, starting pounding on the wall. At that point, Steve pushed your face into the couch cushions to muffle the sound and he continued to land solid blows on your flesh while tears flowed from your eyes and you prayed for him to stop.

Your ass was in flames, hurting. When he finally stopped, he let you up while one hand gently rubbed each side in turn.

“Sorry, I had to do that.” He didn’t sound a bit sorry. “You were a bad girl today, weren't you?”

Again, you shook your head, pigtails flying.

“Yes, you were, and you know it,” he told you. “Dressing like this in a bar, showing everyone there what’s mine... Getting drunk and dancing with your girlfriend for all those leering assholes like you were a couple of low-rent hookers.”

Your face went up in flames too at your embarrassment. “I’m not…”

“Mine?” One hand grabbed you by the throat and hauled you up and back against him. “You most certainly _are_.”

Shoving you back over the couch, you knew what was coming. You scrambled to get away while the zipper of his jeans went down. But you didn’t stand a chance. Steve was pushing his way into you while all you could do was try to find purchase at the angle he had you slung over the couch.

As he had the last time, Steve fucked you hard, hips slamming into yours with force. It was a different angle and he was hitting all new places in that position. It hurt at first, the fact that your ass was on fire didn't help. But slowly, your body grew nice and slick for him and your greedy channel was trying to hang on with each pull. One hand clutched your shoulder so he could pull you back as he pushed in. The other hand reached around to tear open the top of your costume, to rip open your bra so he could feel your breasts in his hands.

And he found your nipples diamond-hard.

“You want to come?” Steve whispered.

“Please,” you begged, your body desperate for release as you just tried to keep up with him.

In the next instant, Steve pulled out of you and you felt the spurts of his release on your ass, heard the deep rumble of his moans.

Steve was struggling to catch his breath behind you. Leaning over you, he whispered in your ear.

“As bad as you’ve been tonight, begging is a good idea,” he told you, using your shirt to wipe you off. “But you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Pulling you up roughly, he shoved you onto your knees before him. Your eyes widened on the huge cock in front of you. _He just came. How the hell was he still hard?_ Taking himself in one hand, he grabbed you by one pigtail and moved your head where he wanted it.

“You know what to do,” he told you meaningfully.

You did what he wanted, you sucked his cock for long moments until your jaw ached, throbbing in time with your beaten ass. You were struggling to keep your teeth away and with the fact that he had your head in his hands, controlling your movements while he fucked your face. His thrusts were careful and he didn’t gag you often but he did every several strokes and you couldn’t help but feel that turned him on.

Desperate for a break, you tried to do what you could to just finish him off. You ran your tongue around him inside your mouth, you swallowed around him when you could.

Steve moaned above you, his thighs tightening under your palms and his breath coming fast.

In the next instant, he pulled himself free of you, releasing you to crumble into a heap on the floor.

“Not coming in your mouth,” he said, panting. “No.”

You yelped as you were hauled off the floor and thrown over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. The world for you kept spinning, the alcohol didn’t do your stomach any favors as he threw you around, and you were stunned when you landed on your back hard on your bed.

Steve was above you, a dark, beautiful god who was going to devour you. He pulled off the dark sweater he wore, began to shove down his jeans. Even in the faint light, you could see all the bruises and wounds littering his skin. One bruise, in particular, covered a good portion of his ribcage on his right side.

What had happened to him?

You didn’t have long to wonder as he crawled up your body and tore away what was left of your shirt and bra. He left the skirt on, shoving it up to your waist.

Steve was a storm above you, his hands and mouth everywhere. Your fingers speared into his hair as his mouth teased your nipples before moving down to your tummy. You cried out In surprise and something like desperation when he threw your legs over his wide shoulders and dove into your pussy with his mouth. No, you didn’t ask for it but what he could do with his lips and tongue… Straight up illegal. It must have been his war crime.

Finally, he let you come on his tongue and it felt so good you momentarily forgot how bad your ass hurt, how sore your jaw was. Steve took you apart with his fingers next before he pushed into you again, sliding his hands up your back and hooking his hands over your shoulders so he could pull you down and thrust up.

You cried out, you begged him to stop, you begged him to make you come... And when he did let you come that last time, again he sent you into orbit, into a dark no man’s land on the edge of sleep.

Only when his grip on you hurt did it pull you from the zone you were in -- and only for an instant as you listened to him growl out his release in your ear.

You were barely aware of him removing your shoes and the skirt, he left the socks on you. And as he did last time, he joined you in your bed, wrapping himself around you and lulling you into a deep sleep with the warmth that radiated from him.

Turning in his arms, you snuggled against your tormentor’s chest. His fingers plucked at the elastics in your hair, running his fingers through your hair, making you sigh happily.

“See?” Steve whispered in your ear as he held you. “Once I can get your mind to shut down? You’re content... You accept it.”

You tried to say something. You didn’t even know what.

He chuckled above you.

“You’re mine,” Steve whispered into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, miraculously, I hit 100 followers on Tumblr. I went from 27 this past weekend to 102 today and I'm pretty sure this story may have been the culprit. Seems a good way to celebrate is to put out a surprise chapter, one that wasn't originally planned... I'm on there as jtargaryen18

When you awoke the morning after Halloween, it was to the chime of your phone. Janet called to ask where you were because at that point, you were two hours late for work. Steve had just been gone, leaving you numb and sore, racing out of bed to get ready for your day.

After a couple of days had passed, and the numbness wore off, you started to realize that Steve was going to keep showing up. He’d come to take you whenever he wanted, whenever he had the time.

Everyone you worked with now knew about your “long-distance boyfriend.” You put a happy face on, tried to keep conversations or questions about him brief and infrequent. At first, they’d gone on and on about how handsome he was and how lucky you were.

Lucky. _Yeah_.

But you didn’t look over your shoulder anymore. You didn’t come home and comb your apartment each night.

After his second visit, you realized two things. First, Steve would be back until he told you otherwise. Second, there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You remembered asking Janet if you could crash at her place if needed on Halloween. You had no idea what he would have done if you’d gone home with her. You just knew that _somehow_ , he’d have managed to take you back to your apartment and fuck you senseless.

You constantly reminded yourself that you’d put yourself in this position.

The realizations hit your hard, left you conflicted. On the one hand, you felt sorry for yourself. There was a cute guy in the mailroom who went out of his way to flirt with you and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You were honestly afraid of what would happen if you tried to go out on a date, much less do something sexual with another man.

_You’re mine._

On the other hand, at odd moments, you found yourself craving Steve’s touch, the way he filled you…

_You were losing your fucking mind._

You kept yourself well-groomed like you had a date every night of the week. You didn’t leave the apartment often now except to go to work or the store. You just weren’t sure if it was because you were afraid to go out…

Or afraid to miss him if he showed up.

By Thanksgiving, you were a mess.

You flew home to your mother’s house for Thanksgiving. Your older sister was there with her perfect lawyer husband and perfect little children with their perfect little dimples. Usually, you dreaded having to hear all about her perfect fucking life and answer her questions about the direction of your own.

This trip? You couldn’t say that it bothered you as badly. Her husband was a lawyer and a nice-looking man, sure. But he was nowhere near as attractive as Steve. And when you paid closer attention, you heard some of her husband’s comments. He pointed out the children starting school soon. He told your sister she should get a job, maybe join a gym. Sure, she’d gained a little weight since having the kids, but her figure was lovely.

_Asshole._

Your younger brother was single like you, in a rock band, and usually high. He showed up for dinner, listened to all of you talk, and crashed on the couch in the living room. He snored so loudly, it was hard to talk over the noise.

Your stepfather followed you into the living room, telling you that you should be helping your mother clear the table. Not your sister, not your brother. _You._ As you were helping your mother put things away, clearing the table, she cheerfully told you that her husband was taking her on a cruise for Christmas so they wouldn’t be home for the usual family get-together between Christmas and New Year’s.

You didn’t know whether to be sad or relieved given how well _this_ Thanksgiving trip was going. It was all you could do not to roll your eyes.

No sooner had you walked back into the living room to join the others when your phone rang. You scrambled to answer it even though you’d have no idea who would be calling you at that very moment at your mother’s house.

“Listen very carefully,” a woman’s voice said calmly in your ear when you answered You tucked into one of the spare bedrooms for privacy. “You’ll tell your family that there is a situation at your job and that it’s necessary for you to return home to help resolve it immediately.”

You _did_ work at a legal firm. It wasn’t so far-fetched.

_Wait._

“Who is this?” you whispered, your heart racing.

“I’m calling on behalf of our mutual friend,” the woman explained. “He needs to see you.”

_Steve._

“Is he okay?” you asked, realizing that you actually cared.

There was a beat before she spoke again.

“He is.” Was there a warmth to her tone then? Or had you imagined it? “A cab is waiting for your outside. It’s paid for. Your flight leaves in little over an hour. You need to leave your mother’s house within the next fifteen minutes. Pack up, make your excuses and head out.”

You didn’t understand.

“Am I going back home?” you asked.

“No, you’re coming to _him_ ,” she explained. “I’m texting you the information for your flight. Be on it. If I have to come and get you, you will not enjoy it.”

“I understand,” you told her. You had no idea who she was but, by God, you believed her. If it had to do with Steve, you weren't even going to try and question it.

Your mother frowned as she walked in and found you packing frantically.

“Who called?” she asked you.

You took a deep breath, getting ready to lie your ass off.

“Work,” you told her, doing your best to seem frantic and at your wit's end. “I have to get home right now. Something’s gone wrong on a case for our largest client, the lawyers are freaking out... We’re going to be working around the clock until this gets resolved.”

Your mother’s expression was skeptical.

“Are you… sleeping… with one of your bosses?” her question held a note of disapproval.

On this, you could absolutely tell the truth.

“No, I’m not,” you stopped and told her soberly. “I’m sorry. I have to go right now.”

“But we’re going to be away for Christmas,” your mother reasoned.

That wasn't _your_ problem.

“I need a job,” you pointed out. “I’m really sorry, Mom.”

You hurriedly pulled on your coat, hugged everyone, and dashed out to the cab that was waiting. The cab had just pulled out into traffic when you realized that you honestly felt a little relieved to be leaving your family's Thanksgiving.

And you were a little worried about Steve even though you knew you shouldn’t be. If he was in trouble, he’d done it to himself.

You knew a little something about _that_ , didn’t you?

The information on your flight was texted to you just as you reached the airport. You dashed up to the desk, got checked in and were directed to your flight.

You were on your way to Baton Rouge.

It was warmer there than where you’d come from but there was still a chill in the air. You didn’t know who or what you were looking for when you made your way off the plane, went to find your luggage at the baggage claim. 

You’d just grabbed your suitcase when someone gently gripped your arm.

A beautiful woman with blonde hair framing her face smiled at you as she led you our of the airport. You hated to be staring at her as you were, but she looked _so_ familiar.

It wasn’t until she had you tucked into the passenger side of a sleek black sports car that it occurred to you who she was. You remembered when her hair was red, and she was testifying before Congress about her involvement in the infiltration of SHIELD by HYDRA.

You were in the car with Natasha Romanoff, the infamous Black Widow. And like Steve Rogers, after the Accords, she'd vanished.

“It’s a short ride, so let’s talk,” she told you. “He doesn’t know that I’ve sent for you. He’s feeling really low about things. I’m hoping that seeing you will... lift his spirits.”

You snorted at that. So, you were like a prostitute now? 

“What’s on your mind?” Natasha asked impersonally.

“It’s nothing,” you tried.

“Not nothing,” Natasha said in the quiet dark of the car. It was just after midnight and she blew out an exhale. “I don’t know the exact nature of your… relationship. I just know that each time he came back from spending time with you, he was much happier.”

“Yeah right,” you muttered. “Like I’m the _only_ one he’s doing this with.”

And the answer to that was so important to you. Was it just you? Were there others?

Her gaze cut to you and back to the road.

“You are the only one he’s… seeing,” she explained.

Tears stung the backs of your eyes and you tried blinking them away. Relieved, hurt.

“It’s not what you… what you think. He doesn’t care… about me. He’s just… I mean, he –”

“You’re wrong,” she stopped you as she pulled into the driveway of a sleepy old antebellum mansion, large and intimidating in the shadows of night. Turning off the car, she turned that beautiful gaze on you. “Steve’s a good man who’s been through many impossible circumstances over the last few years… Honestly, he’s not been himself since the Accords. But I’m not giving up on him just yet. He's struggling right now, and I will do whatever it takes to keep him going, to make him happy.”

“And I make him happy?” You shook your head in the dark cabin of the car. “I don’t know if you knew this, but our… whatever this is… isn’t exactly… consensual.”

“It once was,” Natasha pointed out to you.

“So I’m reminded.”

“I suspected as much,” she said in a lowered voice after a moment. “Is he… hurting you?”

It meant a lot that she asked that question.

“Not really,” you admitted. “It’s just that I don’t…”

“It’s not your choice,” Natasha finished for you.

You nodded.

“He _does_ care,” she told you, but you couldn’t hold her gaze.

You didn’t believe that.

“What he’s doing right now? That’s all he can offer you at the moment,” Natasha went. “Maybe for some time.”

“Yes, but in the meantime, I’m just waiting… for him,” you whispered.

“Is there someone else?”

Your face warmed as you shook your head, making you grateful to be in the dark. Her answering smile was knowing.

“If it looks like things could go south, I’ll get you out,” she explained, climbing out of the car. "I'm really hoping I'm right and seeing you will pull him out of the... state he's been in."

You couldn't fight the concern that welled up inside you at her explanation.

Climbing out, you joined her at the trunk where she fished out your suitcase from among many other cases, boxes of ammunition, knives, batons…

_Jesus._

She carried your suitcase herself up the ornate stone stairs and into the beautiful old mansion. It was slightly run-down, at least what you could see from the darkened rooms you followed her through. Finally, you arrived at a well-lit den where two men sat watching a huge television from an old-fashioned couch.

One was Sam Wilson, the Falcon, and his dark eyes were warm as he spotted you.

Another pair of blue eyes spotted you in the next instant. You couldn’t help but enjoy the surprise that filled them.

_How does it feel to get caught off guard, Steve?_

“Well, hello there,” Sam rose from the couch with a huge smile on his face.

Steve glared at him as he rose from the other side. Then his gaze went to Natasha. “What’s this?”

“I brought someone I thought you might like to see,” she said simply.

The way both she and Sam watched his reaction had your mind spinning.

What had happened that they were both looking at him like they hoped their plan involving you worked? That was how it felt. It also occurred to you, from what Natasha said and the fact that Sam didn’t seem surprised you were there, that they were both in on it. That meant both knew he’d been seeing you, maybe even knew _how_ he’d been seeing you.

Shame had color flooding your face and you lowered your head, hoping to hide in your hair. If they knew all of that, they had to have known about your one-night stand. They probably didn’t have the best impression of you even though Natasha had treated you well enough.

Steve blew out an exhale but didn’t speak. He stepped in front of Natasha, grabbing your suitcase in one hand and your arm in the other before steering you out of the room. You struggled to keep up with his quick pace as he led you up a flight of stairs and into a warmly lit bedroom that was worn like the rest of the house but had a huge comfortable-looking bed.

Steve set your suitcase by the door, his stoic expression on your face as he headed back out.

“Stay here,” he ordered before closing the door behind him.

His reception, if anything, had been _cold_. A quick glance around showed you a room that had no other personal items. This wasn’t the room he was staying in. He’d simply showed you to a room where you could sleep until tomorrow when he’d probably ship you back.

Maybe Steve didn’t want you anymore. Or he didn’t want you on anything but his own terms.

Either way, the tears came on and you tried your best to keep quiet as you sank onto the edge of the bed. Between the holiday meal at your family’s house to the ride here and now _this_? You weren’t sure just how much more you were supposed to take.

There was a bathroom right there and since your phone told you it was after midnight, you got yourself ready for bed and hoped with everything in you that you’d just pass out from exhaustion. You even took a Unisom, because you always had trouble sleeping when you traveled. You turned out the lights and climbed into that bed in your simple nightshirt and panties. Your only intention was to cry yourself to sleep.

And you did that, eventually dozing off.

“Trying to go to sleep on me?” that deep voice out of the darkness had your eyes flying open.

The lamp on the bedside table snapped on and the covers were roughly pulled back from you as you squinted in the unexpected light. Steve was naked before you and excited with his cock standing up and pointing at his abs. He climbed over you, situating his hips between your thighs, making you _feel_ his interest.

Again, his beautiful form was covered in bruises, cuts. What was he doing out there in the world?

“I’m sorry.” It was the first thing you thought of to say. “I—”

“Shhhh.” His heated gaze roamed over you, one large hand smoothing up over your nightshirt to cup one of your breasts. “I was surprised that she brought you here… but I can’t say I’m entirely unhappy about it.”

Lowering his head, he claimed your mouth in a kiss that lacked his usual dominance. Instead, his kiss was soft, seeking. His other hand slid into your hair to hold your head in place for him. He took his time, kissing you until you couldn’t breathe, and your body was pressing up into his with more than a little urgency.

When he’d finished tasting your lips, his hands grabbed the hem of your nightshirt and pulled it roughly up and off your body, revealing you to him. You almost felt better when he collared your wrists, holding them to the mattress as his mouth roamed over your face, your neck. He teased your nipples mercilessly with his mouth until your thighs were locked around his slim hips. He left you silently trying to rub yourself against him to relieve the deep ache he that he’d created deep in your core.

When his lips seared the side of your neck, you were gasping, straining in his hold. “I want to hear you,” he told you roughly.

Your eyes widened in alarm. “But Natasha and Sam are… I mean…”

“They know you’re here,” he whispered against your lips before he nipped at the lower one lightly with his teeth. “They know _why_. Let them hear what I do to you.”

He wasn’t serious. _Was he?_

Releasing one of your hands, he ripped your panties off and flung the scrap off the side of the bed. His fingers delved into your wet, aching folds. You were more than a little embarrassed by just how wet you were.

Steve smirked at you.

“Been missing me, huh?” he teased you.

Before you could think of how you should respond, you instinctively nodded.

“You touch yourself at night?” Steve dropped his mouth to one pointed nipple, nipping at it in a way that took your breath away. “You think about me when you do it?”

Again, you nodded. The color that darkened your face just confirming your truth.

Steve chuckled, seeming delighted as he lined himself up with your entrance, his thighs pushing yours higher and wider.

“I’ll take my time with you later,” he said in a strained voice. “Need you right now.”

The way he pushed into you? The way your walls gave way to make room for the sheer size of him? You didn’t think you’d _ever_ get used to it. You gasped as he kept pushing in until he bottomed out, then his eyes slid closed and he released a sigh.

You lifted your free hand to brush a lock of hair off his forehead, but he caught it and pressed it down next to your head before you could. Steve began a steady rhythm within you, making the rest of your body curl around him like a vine.

His grip on your wrists was tight as his thrusts gained in speed. He added a dirty grind here and there as he moved, watching the pleasure play on your face. Steve tasted your lips, adjusted his thrusts, had your toes curling as you came really hard on his driving cock. It wasn’t until then you’d realized how much you’d needed release too. The complete kind that apparently only Steve could give you.

Humming above you, his lips chained up your neck, reaching the delicate shell of your ear. His breath was hot as he began to whisper the filthiest things.

“I really did need you, Sweetheart,” he admitted as he began to pound you into the mattress. “Need _this_ so much… Love getting lost in your tight little body… Love seeing you lost to it when I fuck you… Love seeing you come apart...”

Bringing your hands together over your head, he held them with one hand which freed his other one to slide between your bodies. He began torturing your sensitive clit with barely-there touches that had you losing your mind. Your gasps became cries, your body grabbed onto him tightly.

One thrust hit your g-spot and you yelled out in surprise, seeing stars.

His tongue teased your ear as he used more of his weight on you. And it felt so fucking good.

“You know I want more,” he whispered into your ear, making you shudder. “I want you to sing this time, doll… I want someone across the bayou to hear you cry for me…”

_How were you not bursting into flames right now?_

Steve held you down and straight-up fucked you, his hips pistoning into you, his fingers teasing your clit with a delicacy a man his size shouldn’t possess. When you came again – because he gave you no choice – you _did_ scream, not caring who heard it as you felt like you were flying apart in the best way. Steve fucked you through the devastating release as the world spun around you, finding his own release only a few seconds later.

The low moans that rumbled from his chest had your heart squeezing in your chest. Tonight, he wasn’t a man trying to take you apart for payback, to amuse himself, or just because he could.

Tonight, he’d needed _you_.

You winced at the slight sting when he pulled free of you, leaving his release to seep out of you. You were far too tired to even care.

“Off work until Monday?” he whispered as he reached over you to turn the lamp back out.

“Yes,” you replied. “My flight home wasn’t until Sunday afternoon.”

Stretching out on his back, Steve patted his chest with a hand. With the last of your energy, you rolled to him, resting your head on his chest and draping yourself over him. The strong, steady beat of his heart filled your ear. Despite the entire damn frustrating situation, you sighed happily, comfortable as his arms wrapped around you.

“I might not let you out of this bed until Sunday,” he warned you, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

You blew out an exhale, snuggling closer.

“It won’t always be like this,” Steve whispered above you. “Eventually, something has to give… When it does… I’m coming for you… I meant it when I said you were _mine_ , doll. ”

You shivered at that, your eyes heavy from sleep. You had no idea what he even meant about the future from his point of view. But at the moment, being confined to Steve’s bed didn’t sound so bad.

Him coming for you didn’t either. It wasn’t like you had a choice anyway. The lines between what was right and what he wanted were getting fuzzier by the day in your head.

“Better sleep while you can, doll.” You felt his lips press into your hair. “Night.”

You fell asleep on him like a trusting kitten, unaware that he watched you sleep just because he could. Unaware that your dark captor was as taken by you as you ever were by him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tame chapter with a little angst. ;) Chapter 6 will be the last chapter.

Steve drove straight from the compound to your apartment, the successful experiment with Clint giving him hope for the first time in years. Thanks to the reappearance of Scott Lang and the reinvestment of Tony Stark, just maybe they could reverse the Snap… the Blip… Whatever the hell they were calling it these days.

They could bring everyone back. Bucky. Sam. Wanda.

_You._

As he did every few months, he let himself into your apartment. After a few months, Steve had SHIELD secure your apartment and put many of your things into his storage. He kept the apartment up all that time though he couldn’t have said exactly why. Most of your family, all but your brother, dusted too so no one came looking for you or your things. You were just another casualty of the worldwide phenomenon that had claimed half of all life on earth.

Steve helped run a support group where he’d become an expert on listening to people talk about their experiences from the Snap and helping them move on. In truth, he was the world’s biggest hypocrite. When he wasn’t on the missions Nat sent him on, in the gym, or with the support group, Steve closed himself off from the world. No use getting attached to anyone else when they were just going to be ripped out of his life over and over again.

Even you had been taken away from him.

That first night when he’d taken you home, the night you’d met, he’d been pretty taken with you. You were beautiful, smart, easy to talk to. He hadn’t exactly been comfortable at first with the idea of just taking a stranger home for sex. But that had been what you’d wanted so…

Once he’d _had_ you?

Once hadn’t been _nearly_ enough. Steve had loved everything about you from the taste of your kisses to the tight heat of your body. Sex had never been like _that_ for him before. You’d made it easy. It had felt right. _Very_ right.

That you’d snuck out on him the one night you’d spent together had stung quite a bit. Made him feel rejected and small, just as he had felt in his younger days living in Bucky’s shadow.

Yeah, you’d warned him that you weren’t looking for a relationship. But he’d been sure he could work with that. As long as he could see you, even casually, it would have been a good start. His life as an Avenger took him out of town often. It would have given you the space you wanted and the time he’d needed to convince you that he was right for you too.

Steve smiled. He’d always wondered what you would have thought if you’d known how long he watched you between that first night and when he reappeared in your life. He’d tried to talk himself out of it, knowing how bitter he would be to see you go home with man after man.

But to his surprise and delight, that never happened. You never went home a single night with another man. Didn’t date. He knew for certain. He’d planted some surveillance for when he couldn’t be there.

Then the Accords and Siberia happened, the falling out with Tony and the other Avengers. He’d left Bucky in Wakanda and the others who’d sided with him disappeared into the world, into exile. It had left Steve raw and disillusioned.

But through it all, he never forgot about you.

He couldn’t get his mind around it. Had you really just used him? Had you just wanted to see if you could fuck Captain America? Had he just been a convenience for you? It was arrogant, sure, to be upset about being the celebrity he was and have someone treat him like _that._

None of those scenarios had seemed quite right though and it did little to improve his already brooding demeanor.

Finally, between that and the falling out, he became so surly that he’d snapped and flew into a rage with Natasha on a mission. After she’d talked him down, she’d gotten him talking. Steve wasn’t good at hiding his emotions from the world and was even worse at hiding them from his master spy friend. He’d ended up venting about most of his frustrations. He even ended up telling her about that one night he’d had with you.

Steve could still remember the smile on her face when he’d finished talking.

She’d explained to Steve that something about him or being with him had scared you. In her generous and logical explanation, one thing she said had stood out to him.

_She’d have to overcome her fear before she could be with you, Steve._

Even though he was pretty sure what he’d ended up doing wasn’t what Nat had in mind, it was a challenge he accepted.

You needed to overcome your fear of him? Well, he’d decided he’d help you.

The Accords, Ross, Tony Stark, _you_ had all made him a different man. A man who could make his way into your apartment and wait for you to get there. A man who could make demands and remind you when you tried to deny him that _you_ were the one who’d wanted easy sex. _You_ were the one who’d skipped out on him.

If Steve hadn’t wanted you so badly again, he might have felt sorry for you that first night when he’d ordered you to strip. By the second time at Halloween, that guilt was gone, drowned out by what he felt you owed him. What the _world_ owed him. When Nat had brought you to him at Thanksgiving when he’d been dealing with a particularly bad bout of “I’m-fucking-done-with-everything”, he’d made up his mind that he was keeping you.

By then he knew you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You only had to admit it. In time, he was certain you would.

Steve sighed as he walked around your living room, your bedroom.

You’d found a way to escape him anyway. Life ripped you out of his life just as it had everything else.

When Thanos snapped his fingers, half of all life disappeared in piles of dust. It had been hard enough to watch Bucky disappear before his eyes. He’d lost his life-long best friend along with Sam, Wanda, and so many others. When Nat had managed to get him off that battlefield in Wakanda, and it had been chaos because the Snap had also claimed their King T’Challa. The first thing he’d done was try to call you.

No answer. It had been weeks before he’d returned from Wakanda, but he’d known in his heart what had happened. On some level, he knew you were gone. And he’d been right. You’d vanished with half of everyone else. You were gone and he couldn’t reach you.

The bitterness of losing that battle, of losing all of you, overwhelmed him at times.

Then, five years later, Scott Lang had shown up and changed everything…

Tomorrow, they would try to navigate time, to locate the Infinity Stones and use them in a gauntlet of their own and reverse the Snap. And if they were successful, and were able to bring everyone back, he’d have _you_ back too.

After reflecting a few more moments, Steve left and locked the door behind him.

***

After Tony Stark’s funeral, Steve had left it to Stephen Strange to get Mjolnir and the Infinity Stones back where they’d been taken from, as Bruce had promised the Ancient One he’d encountered. It was Strange who’d emphasized how important it was to disrupt timelines as little as possible, so he seemed like the best candidate for the job.

The losses of Tony and Natasha had hit Steve hard even though he was more grateful than he could say that Sam, Bucky, Wanda, and others were back. They had a lot of work ahead of them to get order restored to SHIELD and the world.

At the end of the day, at Tony’s request, they’d brought everyone who had “blipped” back, but the world had gone on for five years without them.

It was a mess. In most cases, those people came back to no homes, no bank accounts, no belongings. Accidents were rampant as several people had returned to where they’d disappeared. They reappeared in homes that no longer belonged to them and some had been shot or beaten because the current owners thought they’d broken in.

Some were taking advantage of the situation to grab misplaced women and children for trafficking. When Steve finally found a moment to extricate himself from reversing everything, he hoped with everything in him that he’d find you in your apartment. Sure, you’d be confused and cut off from everything, but hopefully safe.

His girl would have no job, a mostly empty apartment, no money, no nothing. You’d need him.

It was exactly what he wanted.

When he arrived at the apartment to find the door ajar and the rooms empty, he wasn’t happy. When he noticed signs of forced entry, he panicked. His first stop was the administrative office of the apartment complex. He wanted to make sure that someone hadn’t thought the apartment had been broken into and called the police. Steve could have handled that scenario, would have been able to sweep into the local precinct to rescue you.

The people working in the office had no idea what he was talking about.

So Steve tucked into an empty office, pulling out his phone and asking Friday to locate reports of trafficking activity. When the AI found a series of missing person reports, mostly young women and children missing from all over the city, he took a deep breath and focused. The ones just returned wouldn’t have missing reports. They’d be nearly impossible to trace. If he was right, and you’d been apprehended by traffickers, he knew you didn’t have a lot of time.

Hitting his contacts, he waited for Sam to answer his phone.

“Sup, Cap?” Sam greeted him.

“She’s missing,” he told the only friend who knew about you. “Looks like someone broke into her apartment and no one reported the break-in.”

“Shit,” Sam muttered. “Want me to bring Bucky?”

“Please,” Steve replied. “My place in thirty minutes. I’ve got Friday putting together some intel so hopefully, we can locate her. Other victims.”

“We _will_ locate her,” Same told him.

Steve hoped so.

***

You woke up on a dirty concrete floor. It was cold in the room and you were dressed only in a t-shirt your slept in and a pair of comfortable leggings. The back of your head hurt…

You flinched as you remembered the men who’d broken into your apartment. You were so confused. You’d remembered watching yourself dissolve into ashes and then in the next instant, you were back in your apartment. But everything was dusty and some of your belongings were gone. Had you been robbed? What had even happened?

You’d wandered around for an hour looking for your phone, your purse, anything when two very large masked men broke down your door and hit you, knocking you out. Leaving you here…

You weren’t alone. There were three other girls with you. Two of them were fully dressed. One, like you, was in her pajamas.

“Are you okay?” One of the dressed girls asked you, her eyes filled with the same fear wrecking you.

“I think so,” you whispered. “Does anyone know where we are?”

None of them had an answer.

You blew out an exhale. “I’d honestly just love to know what’s happening.”

You explained what happened to you and the other girl in pajamas – she _couldn’t_ have been eighteen – told a similar story.

The first girl who’d spoken to you? She was able to fill in some of the blanks. The other young woman with her was her sister. Her sister – like you and the other girl – had “dusted” as she called it. She described what you’d watched happen to yourself.

She told an incredible story about aliens who had “blipped” away half of all life on Earth that day and it had been that way for _five years_. The Avengers had found a way to reverse everything, to bring everyone back.

Fear was a spike that went straight through your heart as you tried to comprehend everything.

“What year is it?” you asked fearfully.

“2023,” she whispered.

_2023?_

“What are we doing here?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s anything… good.”

Had your family survived? What happened to them?

You all talked for a little while, it helped calm your nerves.

When the door to the basement room you were in opened, a masked man with a rifle and a duffle bag walked in, followed by another man in street clothes and not wearing a mask. He was older with silver woven through his dark hair. One could even say he was handsome even though he wasn’t very big compared to the armed man.

Walking to the center of the room, that man looked at each of you in turn as the masked man gave each of you a water bottle.

Finally, the unarmed man turned to you. “Let’s take this one first. She’s a bit older but she’s gorgeous. She’ll fetch a good price.”

_Oh, God._ You had a terrible idea of why you might be there. They were traffickers.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “What?”

The masked man grabbed you and hauled you up by your hair while you screamed. The other man got in your face. “You don’t speak. Understand?”

You nodded, terrified. You felt like a worm on a fisherman’s hook.

They dragged you from the room and you screamed as the larger man threw you over his shoulder. It reminded you of when Steve did that…

_Steve._

The girl in the room had said he and the Avengers had reversed everything. You knew he had to be busy dealing with that. And five years had gone by. He probably didn’t even remember _you_.

They locked you into a small room with a cot that had a thin mattress and a blanket. They took you to the toilet before bringing you back and strapping you down to that cot to your horror. When the masked man was done, he wrapped a strap around your arm and used a hypodermic needle to inject you with something. _Drugs._ To control you.

_You were going to die._

_Or you'll wish you had._

It only took seconds for whatever they’d given you to swim through your veins. You thought about Steve as everything began to spin in your vision.

***

Friday had helped them narrow down two possible places where traffickers might have set up operations. Steve took one and Sam and Bucky the other. Steve had just blocked one transport with four young women on it from leaving the facility they were using when Sam came across on the com link. None of them were her.

His next move was to capture one of them to help him navigate the facility and search it fully. Sam’s transmission put a stop to his plan.

“Steve, I think she may be here,” Sam told him.

The SHIELD agents that had just reached him handled his location as Steve raced through town to where Sam and Bucky were located. Parking a couple of streets over, he quietly made his way around to the old warehouse on foot.

“Sam?” he said quietly into the com. “I’m here.”

“Trying to take out the guards on all three floors,” Sam answered. “Bottom level is clear. One of the girls there described a girl who sounds like her.”

Steve’s heart clenched in his chest. _She had to be here._

“The other two floors?” he asked.

“Second floor is clear,” Bucky announced.

“Almost done with the third,” Sam told them.

Steve entered through the lower level. He passed one door with three girls inside, clinging to each other. He held up a finger to keep them quiet. They recognized him and nodded. He did a thorough sweep of the floor and found several other girls, but none of them her.

“Steve?”

Steve knew that tone. Sam had found something. “Which floor?”

“Third.”

Steve raced up to the third floor and Bucky waited at the top of the stairs motioning him forward. Steve scrambled after him to where Sam sat on the edge of a cot, checking its occupant’s vital signs.

You were lying motionless on that cot.

Steve dashed over to the other side of that cot, taking a knee. He lifted your hand, but it was cold, your breathing shallow. He hadn’t seen you in five years and when he finally finds you…

“What did they give her?” he tried to put steel in his voice to keep himself from falling apart.

“An opiate of some kind,” Sam explained. “We needed to get her out of here now. They gave her way too much.”

Medical got there very quickly but each second was like hours as Steve waited by your side. What if you didn’t survive? What if he’d lost you after all?

Moving aside for the paramedics, he tried to keep calm, still. Neither of his friends bought it. Bucky stepped in front of him.

“You okay?” he asked, concerned.

Sam clamped a hand on his shoulder. “They’ll take care of her.”

Steve decided to follow the paramedics out, rode in the ambulance with you. No one tried to stop him.

***

“Even _you_ are going to need to sleep sometime,” Sam informed him.

Steve managed a smile for his friend even though he didn’t feel like his head was connected to his body at that point. You’d been out for two days and he’d stayed right there with you. But they’d told him you _would_ recover. That’s all he wanted.

“What are you going to do?” Sam wasn’t shy.

Steve had been wondering the same thing.

“No idea,” he told Sam. Sam didn’t understand as well as Natasha how things had gone between you before.

Five years had given him a lot of time to consider his actions. He had no regrets. No, he wouldn’t change a moment of the time he’d spent with you. You’d wanted him _then_. You’d surrendered yourself to him so beautifully, given up your will to his. He’d loved how you’d accepted him, just as he was and had wanted to be.

But five years had made him doubt himself. What if you didn’t feel that way anymore? Steve was pretty sure he could force his way back into your life, claim you again.

But he wanted you to _choose_ him. He wanted you to give yourself to him.

“You know the old saying,” Sam started then laughed. “Hell, you probably coined that old saying.”

Steve smirked up at him. “Which saying?”

“You know, the one that if you love someone set them free? If they come back to you, they’re yours?”

Steve nodded, considered that. “It’s good advice. I _could_ set her free. But how do I know if she comes to me it’s real?”

“I remember the way she looked at you that night at the safe house in Louisiana,” Sam reminded him. “That’s a pretty good reason.”

“So’s not having a job, money, a place to live,” Steve threw out.

“Her family’s back,” Sam reasoned. “And you know she hasn’t forgotten about you. I know you guys are telling me that five years went by but… It seemed like I was only gone for about five minutes, Steve. She’s not going to feel that time gap. Not like you did.”

He _hoped_ you wouldn’t.

“It would make the most sense for her to go back to her family _,_ wouldn’t it?” Sam folded his arms across his chest. “You can always have a detail put on her to keep her safe until she goes one way or the other.”

Steve knew he was right. He really hated the way this was going to have to go but if he really wanted to know how you felt after all, he _had_ to do it.

“Get out of here before she wakes up,” Sam bid him. “We’ll ask the hospital staff not to say anything. They’ll do as you ask. Get some sleep and see how it plays out.”

“I’ll think about it, Sam,” he told him. It was the best answer he had at the moment.

“Get some rest soon, alright?” Sam made him meet his gaze.

Nodding, Steve watched his friend disappear from the hospital room, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Sam was right, he just didn’t know if he could do it. What if the detail he put you on missed something and you fell back into trouble? And he wasn’t able to get there this time? What if you ran back to your mother and stayed there until you could get back on your feet?

What if you just didn’t choose him?

It was a question he needed answered.

Rising from his chair, he moved to sit on the edge of your bed. He took her hand in his, leaning above you.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” Steve whispered. “I know what I _want_ you to do… And if you do something else, I can’t promise I won’t come back after you…”

Steve laughed at himself. Yeah, it would hurt if you didn’t choose him. But it wouldn’t stop him.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered before brushing a kiss on your lips.

You made the slightest sound, like you were trying to talk to him.

Steve smiled and forced himself to leave your side, leave your hospital room.

He stopped to talk to the hospital staff before he headed home and slept for several hours.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one! Thank you guys so much for reading and all the lovely comments and support. I love you guys!

Terror gripped you when you awoke but when you finally braved opening your eyes, you appeared to be in a hospital. You felt sick to your stomach, calling out for someone. A nurse arrived with a plastic tray to keep from you being sick all over yourself, the bed.

The older woman smoothed your hair back from your forehead, as you sat there trembling and sick. You’d broken out in a sweat, but you were cold. It was the most miserable you’d felt in your life.

The nurse helped you into the bath while other hospital staff changed your bedding. You appreciated their kindness more than you could say.

But you were also feeling disoriented. You remembered what you’d been told by the girl when you’d been taken about what had happened in the world.

“Is it really 2023?” you asked the nurse washing your hair.

A deep sigh came from behind you and for a moment, you didn’t think she’d answer.

“Yes, it is, honey.” She helped rinse the shampoo out. “So you blipped?”

You nodded.

“Scary times,” she told you. “Then human traffickers got their hands on you. I’m so glad someone found you… Do you have a family we can call to help you?”

“My Mom,” you told her, though the idea wasn’t that appealing because you really didn’t get along great with your stepfather. Never had.

“We’ll probably keep you here for a couple more days before you’re released,” she told you. “We can call her if you like.”

“Let me think about it,” you told her.

“Well, you should,” the nurse went on. “Meaning to be helpful here, but when the Snap happened, all of you who vanished were treated as if you’d died. Depending on what family you had left, your things, your assets either went to them or went to the state. People reappeared in homes where they used to live and got shot because the new people thought they were intruders. It’s been awful.”

You nodded weakly. “I was able to get into my apartment. My key still worked. A lot of my stuff was gone though, and it was dusty. It sure looked like no one lived there for five years.”

“Maybe your family kept the apartment?” she offered.

You couldn’t imagine your family had been behind it. They weren’t poor but they didn’t have that kind of money either.

_I did pay for your rent. Doesn’t that get me anything?_

“Those traffickers… found me so fast…” You were still trying to get your mind around it.

“I’ve been listening to the police because there’s been several of you rescued over the last several days,” she said. “Apparently, once people started coming back, they ran programs to search for records, certain situations. A woman alone in an apartment that was kept for her?”

The only one who _could_ have kept the apartment all that time was Steve.

Why would he have done that? Why would he even care after all this time?

That long weekend at Thanksgiving had been the last time you’d seen him. Long enough to think he’d finally tired of you until you saw the reports of the alien ships landing in the city. Then you knew exactly what he’d been dealing with. Strange reports hit the news over several weeks. The last thing you saw was the battle in Wakanda, images on the television reports of aliens landing there for an enormous battle. Of course, Steve and the other remaining Avengers had been right there at the vanguard. You saw his image on the news.

That had been one of the last things you’d seen before you “dusted.”

“I guess I’ll need to think up something quick,” you muttered, shaking in the warm water. “I’ll have a hell of a hospital bill from this.”

“You’re alive,” she pointed out. “That’s the most important thing… And _your_ bill has been covered.”

That stopped you. Had you glancing over your shoulder. “By who?”

“They don’t give us that type of information,” she told you. “Sorry.”

_Steve?_

The nurse had dressed you and gotten you a meal. You weren’t able to eat much of it. You slept through the rest of that day.

When you awoke late the next day, you had a visitor. The girl from that basement room. The one who had told you what happened during the Blip. Her chestnut-colored hair gleamed in the light from the window and she smiled.

“I was here a couple of days ago, but you weren’t awake,” she told you. “Glad to see you are now.”

“Thank you.” It was very kind of her.

“We were all pretty lucky, huh?”

“What happened?” You wanted to know. “They took me upstairs and drugged me.”

Her expression was one of pure sympathy. “I know. I’m so sorry. You honestly didn’t even look alive when they took you out of here.”

“The police?”

“The Avengers.”

_What?_

“The Falcon found us,” she went on, “He told us to sit tight. He and the Winter Soldier went to search the building for others. We told them you were taken. Falcon asked us what you looked like. He asked a lot of questions.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest so loudly you could hear it.

“Captain America showed up,” she explained. “He rode in the ambulance with you. I saw that when Falcon led us out.”

Steve had been _with_ you?

“You guys were okay?” you wanted to know.

She nodded. “We were fine. There were four other girls up there who’d been drugged like you. One was… dead.”

From what the nurses told you, you had _almost_ died.

“Isn’t it cool that they came to save us?” she asked you, a gleam in her pretty eyes.

You nodded, feeling warmed up from the inside. _Steve came for you?_ “Yeah, it really was.”

Did Steve just happen to be there? Was it a coincidence?

“Sure wish there was a way we could thank them.”

“I agree,” you told her, before asking her how her sister was doing getting used to the world again. After her story, she offered her help in trying to reach your family, offering you a place to stay for a while. The kindness of the young woman was just amazing.

Leaving you to think about it, she left her name in number in case you decided to ask for help. She gave you a hug before she left.

You slept more, but the tendency to want to sleep was getting less and less. By dinner, the nurse came to let you know that you could go home tomorrow.

_Home._

Where was _that_ now?

You didn’t expect to sleep with so many questions in your head and it worked out because just before bedtime, you had a final visitor.

Sam Wilson was a handsome man with warm brown eyes and a smile that you didn’t think anyone could possibly resist. He carried in a tote bag that he placed on the bed as he took a seat at your bedside.

“How you feelin’?” he asked you with that same charming smile but with a concern etched in his expression that you appreciated.

“A little better,” you told him, more than a little nervous now. “Thank you… for saving us.”

Sam nodded. “I’m glad we found you when we did. You wouldn’t have made it much longer. Whatever they gave you? It was a truckload.”

You plucked at the hospital gown you wore a little self-consciously.

“It must have been. It’s the worst I’ve ever felt in my life,” you explained. “I also found out about the…”

“Snap?” Sam sighed. “Yeah, I dusted too during that… Good to be back though.”

“Well, it is.” But you were pretty sure _he_ had a place to go back to. “I just have to figure out where to go from here…”

“Yeah, that’s kind of why I’m here,” Sam said. “But I’m _not_ here, okay? This talk _never_ happened.”

_Oh, what was this?_

You nodded your agreement. Honestly, you were afraid not to.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said slowly.

He patted the tote on the bed. “I swung by and picked up some of your clothes. I really don’t like the idea of you walking out of here in the pajamas I found you wearing. It’s not safe on the streets right now as it is.”

Apparently not.

“Thank you.”

“What are your plans when you leave here?” Sam wanted to know.

You shrugged. You had no plans.

“Talk to your family?”

You shook your head. They hadn’t tried to reach you either, but you didn’t have a phone so…

“All but your brother dusted and apparently he didn’t come looking,” Sam explained. “Steve kept the apartment and he has a lot of your things put into storage. Including this.”

Reaching into his pocket, Sam pulled out a brand new StarkTech phone the likes of which you’d never be able to afford.

“That’s not –”

“The contact information in there is yours,” he told you. “All set up with service so you can figure out what you’re going to do.”

Tears stung the backs of your eyes as you stared down at the device in your hand. You scrolled through it. It wasn’t just _your_ information. You’d never had Steve’s number before. But now you did.

“Sam?” you asked, hoping you didn’t mind you calling him that. “Why are you _here_?”

“Because I’m Captain America’s right hand,” Sam explained calmly. “One of them. I look after him.”

“But… Sam, I’m not… God, how do I explain this, I –”

Sam held up a hand to stop you.

“I know what you probably think,” he said. “I don’t know solid details. He’s never talked to me about you. Not like he did with Natasha. All I know is that you’re someone he cares very much about and I think you might feel the same way. You don’t know our world and he’s just clueless so…”

You tried not to laugh at the brutal honesty you got from the Falcon.

“How is Natasha?” you thought to ask, remembering how kind she’d been to you that Thanksgiving – in her own way.

Sam’s smile faded and sadness filled his eyes.

Your heart lurched in your chest.

“We lost her,” he said sadly. “We lost Tony Stark, Vision... It hasn’t been an easy time.”

You knew Steve had been close to Natasha and you knew he had to be reeling right now.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you told him, reaching forward to place a hand on his. “I didn’t know.”

Sam nodded. “Because of what happened? The world is a _mess_. Everything is a mess right now. You know what I’m talking about firsthand. It’s going to take us years for the world to sort this shit out. I can’t help everybody... But I can maybe help a few.”

Blowing out an exhale, you waited for him to get to his intention with you.

“If anything happens to you,” he said slowly, “it’s going to kill _him_. And he’s been through enough already.”

“If you want to reconnect with your family, go home, I’ll help you do that,” Sam offered. “The thing that it’s not safe for you to do right now is to try and go it alone. I think you know that… Not right now anyway.”

Even if you hadn’t been through what happened to you with the kidnapping, you did see his point. AS it was, you’d be lucky if you didn’t end up with PTSD from everything.

“Where else could I go?” you wondered out loud.

Sam smirked at you. “I think you know the answer to that.”

That froze you to the spot. Was he saying what you _thought_ he was staying?

“I think you realize he’s waiting to see what you’re going to do,” Sam explained. “I can’t promise you he’ll stay away if you go to your family. I really can’t.”

You had to laugh at that. If what Sam said was true, you could see Steve finding you there where your mother lived. Steve facing down your cowardly little stepfather? That could be entertaining.

You shook your head, certain there was something you were missing.

“I haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving,” you said, “ _that_ Thanksgiving… I thought… I assumed he was done with me.”

“Then you don’t him very well,” Sam told you.

“I really don’t,” you wanted to explain. “See… The thing is…”

“I don’t need to know.” Sam’s fingers twined with yours. “I just see a man who went on five years after _we_ dusted. In all that time, he never forgot about _you_. He kept your apartment, your belongings. You don’t just do things like that… Five years is a long time.”

Your tears _did_ come on now. Was Sam trying to convince you that Steve actually _felt_ something for you? That you’d been more to him than a sexual release he could take advantage of?

“What if he turns me away?” you hated how small your voice sounded.

“Trust me.” His gaze locked with yours.

“What happens when he’s done with me?”

“You’ve met him, right?” Sam cracked a smile.

“It’s not funny,” you tried to smile back but only ended up crying harder.

Moving onto the bed next to you, Sam held onto you.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he said close to your ear. Leaning back, his gaze met yours. “Just… if you don’t feel what I think you feel for him, don’t go. Okay? It would be better to go to your family.”

You swiped at your tears with your hands.

“But if you _do_ feel something,” Sam’s expression was a mix of amusement and concern, “he’ll take care of you. You could use that right now. And he needs someone there for him. He deserves _something_.”

If you’d been in a different place in life, you might have taken issue with being told Steve _deserved_ you, like you were some sort of possession.

As it was, you had no home, no life. You _did_ feel something for Steve. But you weren’t sure he felt like that about you. Maybe he’d just politely let Sam think that what happened between you was more emotional? Consensual?

“Get out of your head,” Sam drew your attention back to him. “ _Trust me_.”

He stayed and talked to you until the nurse announced the end of visiting hours and then he made his out of the hospital.

Sam Wilson had left you with a very nice new phone, some cash for a cab, an address, and a _lot_ to think about.

***

SHIELD had secured temporary offices and houses for the Avengers since Thanos had destroyed the compound. Pepper was rebuilding the Avengers compound, but it would take time. The office building they were using was in the city, not far from Steve’s apartment. That was convenient.

Everything else?

Steve was a wreck.

He couldn’t focus on anything. He knew you were being released from the hospital today.

Why had he listened to Sam? He should have just shown up at the hospital to pick you up, take you home, and things would work out naturally from there.

_Wouldn’t they?_

He was still sorting through paperwork from the battle with Thanos and not making great progress on it when Maria Hill tapped on his door.

“Someone’s here to see you,” she told him.

Steve was on his feet in an instant, marching down the hall to the main office area.

The girl standing there waiting was not the one he hoped to see. And she wasn’t alone. Two of the girls who had been in the basement room of the building where they’d found you stood there, staring up at him. They’d brought him an enormous platter of all types of cookies. Steve had been polite, thanked them, asked them about their welfare, did the photo opp.

The minute they were out the door, Maria claimed the platter for the front desk and Fury was already sorting through cookies and humming in delight all the while.

His hopes dashed, Steve sighed, deciding to get back to his paperwork. _He’d try._ Best off, he’d devise a plan. He needed to decide on a period of time for you. If nothing heard, well, then he needed to decide what he was going to do and –

“Steve?”

Turning around, he saw your cab pull away from the curb outside the glass doors before his gaze fell on you, standing there by the front desk and gazing up at him anxiously.

At the moment, he was grateful no one else had his enhanced hearing. They would have heard his heart thundering in his chest. You were there. You came to _him_.

You looked thinner than he remembered and there were deep shadows beneath your eyes, all the more pronounced because you weren’t wearing makeup. You were dressed in street clothes and holding onto the strap of your purse so tightly your knuckles were white.

“Can I help you?” Maria approached her.

Your eyes flashed to her in fear. For a second, he was honestly afraid you might cut and run. But you really didn’t look to be in any shape to do that.

“She’s here for me,” Steve told Maria without taking his eyes off you.

When he approached you, pulling you against him in a tight embrace, you didn’t fight him. You hugged him back. It just bothered him that you seemed so much smaller than he remembered. He didn’t like the fact that you were shaking either.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Steve slowly walked you in the direction of his office, away from all the curious eyes. Once you’d reached the office, he closed and locked the door behind you.

Your big, haunted eyes gazed up at him, shiny with tears that you were fighting, and his heart squeezed in his chest. Before he could say anything, you approached him, pressing your forehead to his chest and wrapping your arms lightly around his waist. The wordless supplication broke his heart a little.

Steve loved you surrendering to him. But this? This was not _that_.

You were wounded and broken, seeking his protection.

Wrapping his arms around you, he just held you, easing you both back until he could lean on the desk to support you. Your tears had soaked into his shirt, your trembling had only eased a little, and Steve felt like a HYDRA-class monster right now.

He really should have just gone to the hospital to claim you.

_But she had other choices. She didn’t have to choose you._

That thought had his heart swelling with hope. Maybe Sam had a point.

Trying to pry you gently away from him, he eased you into one of the stuffed chairs in front of his desk while you gaze up at him with fearful, watery eyes.

“Relax for just a minute, Sweetheart,” he told you. “I’m going to just grab what I need and we’re heading home, okay?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, looking lost.

“Friday, have a car brought around for me,” he called out.

“Right away, Captain Rogers,” the AI immediately answered.

He didn’t want to leave you long enough to go get his car. Grabbing a portfolio, he shoved the reports he needed to get done into it and grabbed his jacket. The leather was heavy, but he helped you stand and wrapped it around you since you weren’t wearing a coat and it was chilly outside.

The jacket was just about as big as you were but damned if he didn’t like seeing you wearing something of his.

_Later._

Tucking you into his side, Steve walked you back out to the front doors.

“I’ll check in Monday,” he told Fury and winked at Hill, both staring at him in an almost comical way.

Today was a good day. He sure as shit wasn’t staying at the office pushing paper now that she’d shown up.

It was a short drive to his place and that was good because you were dozing in the car even so. Within a half an hour, he had you in his apartment and resting on the couch.

Once you’d dozed off, he went through your purse, looking for any medications they might have given you. The pain killers were for the huge knot the traffickers had left on your head when they’d knocked you out. Deciding he’d manage those, he shoved the small bottle into his pocket. He would have put your purse to the side except that he spotted a really nice phone in there.

How had you gotten _that_?

People either didn’t realize or forgot about the enhancements he had. It was faint but he picked up the slightest whiff of Sam’s cologne on the nice piece of Stark technology. Steve smiled. Always looking out for him. He had to appreciate that Sam was looking out for you, making sure you had a way to reach help no matter which direction you’d gone. Steve’s number was even there.

_Nice touch, Sam._

But you had come to _him_. Sam hadn’t made you do it, hadn’t driven you there, or forced you into the building. You did that on your own power. Sure, Sam might have given you a nudge.

That you were here now? You did that all on your own.

Steve smiled as he contemplated the days ahead. You needed to rest, recover. Until a mission came up, he could and would work from here. The apartment was completely hooked up, SHIELD required it, so you’d be monitored fully when he couldn’t be there.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Sleep, Sweetheart.”

***

You’d been at Steve’s place for a week now. You reclined on the couch, reading your phone while he sat on the other side, working on his laptop at endless reports he seemed to have to file in conjunction with the last battle with Thanos. He’d stop and watch movies with you. It was all very domestic and not at all what you’d expected.

When you’d shown up at the address Sam had given you at the hospital, you’d had no idea what to expect. You were scared enough from the situation you’d been thrown into and not fully recovered from your kidnapping and drugging at the hands of human traffickers.

You’d almost lost your nerve to walk in there, honestly. According to everyone, Steve hadn’t seen you in nearly five and a half years. You had no idea what to expect. What if he didn’t even acknowledge you?

All you’d done was call out to him.

For Steve to have immediately embraced you, not caring who around you saw it, had your heart slamming in your chest. On top of your wonky condition, you’d really barely remained upright.

You didn’t remember a lot about the first day. Steve had taken you back to his apartment, no questions or discussions. You’d slept on his couch most of the day. He woke you up to eat dinner, of course Steve could cook well, and then it was time for bed.

You shouldn’t have been shy with your body in front of him, but you were. He’d undressed you, pulled one of his shirts over your head and pulled you into bed with him. You didn’t know if it was the heat of him as he spooned up behind you or just the knowledge that, for the moment, you were safe, but you passed right out. When you woke up, it was nearly noon. Within minutes, Steve found you awake, fed you, helped you shower and dress. Then he set you up on the couch where he was working until dinner.

The entire last week had gone that way and it was driving you crazy. Steve couldn’t have been kinder or more caring. But you hadn’t talked, and you knew he was trying to work and take care of you too. You got that.

You didn’t sense that he wanted to talk to _you_ about the situation. No, he seemed quite comfortable with everything.

You, on the other hand? You were going insane.

And today you were feeling better. He’d gone out yesterday and brought some of your clothes from your apartment, offering to take you shopping soon for new ones. He’d had you order toiletries and cosmetics you’d wanted online so you could get back to “being you” he’d said.

Yeah, you needed to talk about getting back to _being you_. What was in store for your future?

“Steve?” you ask quietly. “When you get to a good stopping point, can we talk?”

Steve smirked, looking very much like he’d been expecting this. He’d finished what he was doing. You didn’t expect him to shut the laptop and place it on the coffee table, but that’s just what he did.

Now that you had his full attention, you were uncomfortable as hell.

“What would you like to talk about, Sweetheart?” he asked, still smirking at you. Angling himself towards you, he disarmed with you with that smile. With that super tight t-shirt he was wearing today.

_Did he do that on purpose?_

“I want to thank you for taking me in for a while and… taking care of me,” you began awkwardly.

“You thank me every day,” he told you. “You don’t need to keep doing that.”

“I do,” you offered. “I’m not your responsibility but… you’ve done everything for me and…”

You didn’t know what you’d said wrong but something in his expression had shifted. You paused, decided to be more careful with your words.

“I’m going to have to get back on my feet again,” you said slowly. “I have to think of my future… I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Steve. I don’t want to… take advantage of your… hospitality long term, you know, and…”

“I don’t think you understand your situation clearly,” he said in a tone that he hadn’t used on you since that first night in your apartment. “You _are_ my responsibility, Sweetheart. This _is_ your future.”

Your heart sped up in your chest as you thought about what he said. “Steve, I’m not –”

“You’re mine,” he growled, coming across the couch at you and aggressively pinning you into your corner of it. “I thought you understood that. Even before the Snap happened… I _told_ you I’d come for you.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest now, your breath coming fast as anger and determination lit up his face. You _did_ remember him saying that.

“You said that,” you managed to get out. “But then I didn’t see you for months… I thought you’d…”

“Forgotten about you?” Steve taunted you. “You should have known better than _that_.”

His mouth was on yours then, demanding and dominant. His tongue danced along with yours and his hands slid up into your hair, holding you in place. Steve was such a good kisser, making it hard for you to focus.

When he let you up for air, you gasped, clinging to him. Somehow, he’d pulled you down onto the couch, his hips cradled between your thighs. His hips nudged his hardness into the wet, aching center of you.

Those smoldering blue eyes searched yours and he smiled at what he saw there.

“You’ve been mine since you came home with me that first night,” he whispered against your lips. “You just didn’t realize it.”

His lips scorched a path across your jaw to your neck, the scratch of his beard gone now that he was all clean-shaven again. Your body betrayed you, your thighs squeezing him, your core lifting, seeking friction.

_No, you had to think._

“Steve, please,” you begged. “I need…”

“I know what you need,” he promised as his hands slid up under your sweater and over your breasts.

“Please… listen…” One hand was sliding under you to unhook your bra. “I can’t just stay here and… live with you… take advantage…”

Your sweater was swept over your head and your bra plucked off in the next instant. He had his mouth and hands on your breasts, nudging at your core with his hips in a way that made you feel like you might spontaneously combust.

“I don’t like common law marriage… either,” he spoke around your nipple. He nipped at you with his teeth, soothed it with lashes of his tongue. You sank your fingers into his hair, your body arching up for him. Steve moaned around your breast, making the deep ache between your thighs worse. “Want to find us a house first… then we’ll get married…”

_Married?_

“What? Steve, we can’t –”

Steve lifted from you, hauling you over his shoulder in the next instant.

“We can,” he said, very matter-of-factly.

“Steve, I need –”

The sharp smack on your ass as he carried you to his bed made you yelp. He dumped you onto the mattress just as quickly, taking your wrists in his hands and pressing them down on either side of your head.

“I’m _very_ old-fashioned,” he warned you. “If you’re going to share my bed, you’re going to share my name.”

Switching your wrists to one hand, he used the other to pull your jeggings and panties off, tearing them in the process. Faster than you could think, he hauled you up to the headboard, using the ruined stretchy material to bind your wrists to the bars there.

“Give it a try,” he told you with a smirk when he was done.

You huffed out a frustrated breath but did try to jerk your arms free. You couldn’t pull them off.

Steve blew out an exhale, straddling your body and seeming to relax as he pulled off the sinfully tight shirt he’d been wearing.

“Now, can we talk a bit more reasonably?” he said in a teasing tone.

_Was he serious right now?_

“You just tied me to your bed,” you pointed out in a shaky voice. “And you want to talk reasonably?”

Steve hummed. “I love this.” His hands smoothed slowly up to your arms, back down and onto your breasts. He smiled. “And I _do_ have your attention now.”

“You always had my attention,” you told him, your emotions running the gamut from frustrated to worried to fucking-fuck-me-right-now.

Steve laughed at that, made you realize one thing you _weren’t_.

Scared.

You wanted to slap him. You wanted to talk to him. You definitely wanted to fuck him now.

But the fear was gone. At some point, you realized that he _did_ care about you. He wasn’t going to hurt you. You knew that.

Torturing you sexually? Now _that_ he was completely capable of.

“What’s so hard to understand?” Steve’s heated gaze moved over your body slowly, as if he were contemplating everything he wanted to do to you. “You’re perfect for me.”

One of those large hands slid down over your tummy, his fingers sinking into the V between your thighs. He hummed again as those rough fingers played between your folds.

You tried with everything in you to keep still, to not enjoy that touch. _Oh, God._ But you craved _it_. Craved _him._

You moaned in frustration when he pulled his hand away, showing you fingers wet with your own excitement.

“And you want _me_ just as much,” he told you, holding your gaze. “You _will_ admit it.”

You watched him suck those fingers into his mouth, cleaning them. _Tasting you_.

Dropping kisses onto your stomach, your tummy, he lowered himself onto the bed until those powerful arms wrapped around your thighs and he was running his nose along the seam of your lower lips.

“Steve?” You had to try. But it was hard to put words together when his tongue began working against your clit while he held you wide open. “I had… a job… and my own place… _Oh my, God_ … I can take care… of me…”

You tried with everything in you to pull your wrists free, just so you could hang onto his hair, clutch at his shoulders, something. As it was, he was taking you apart with kitten licks to your clit, broad sweeps of his tongue down to your entrance. And he was just getting started.

“Won’t need to work,” he whispered into your pussy. “We’ll have the house to fix up and kids eventually… That will keep you plenty busy.”

You would have argued that – you’d never even stopped to seriously consider children yet – but he began fucking you with his tongue and orgasm was riding you hard.

Your muffled your cries as best you could as your release lit you up with thousands of sparks, shooting through your body. Steve lapped at you lazily then before lifting his head, sliding a finger into your aching channel.

“Stop holding back,” he muttered. “Place is soundproofed… because of my job… But it’s useful for other things…”

You did cry out when his fingertip found your g-spot.

Steve smiled, slid another finger in. “Like that… Scream for me.”

Twisting his wrist just right, moving his fingertips just so, Steve sent you over the ledge again and this time you _did_ scream for him. Especially when he dropped his mouth back to your clit, dragging out your orgasm until you thought you’d black out.

Your entire body spasmed on his bed and he pulled his hands back, rising over you with a wicked smile. He ripped open his jeans, yanking them off and positioning himself between your thighs.

You watched his hand smooth over his large, swollen cock – up and down – wanting that, _needing_ that to relieve the ache he created inside you. His gaze darkened as he followed the line of your gaze.

“It’s been years for me,” he whispered, lining himself up at your entrance. “Dreaming about this… dreaming about you…”

Reaching up, he released your hands as he slowly sank into your body. Kisses rained over your chest, shoulders, neck…

“Touch me,” he whispered, teasing the shell of your ear with his tongue. “Just want your hands on me, Sweetheart… please…”

Your heart shifted in your chest at such a simple request, such a basic desire. You slid your hands into his hair as his lips claimed yours in a kiss that was passionate but longing. You gasped into his mouth when he bottomed out. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed how he filled you, how he made you complete.

“Stay with me,” his whisper was the softest plea in your ear. “Stay…”

Your body was in flames as he began to a solid rhythm within you. Your thighs gripped tightly around those slender hips and your hands were wild across the muscled plane of his back. He held his weight off you with one arm, the other hand slid between your bodies and sought out your clit, continuing his campaign to take you apart at the seams.

“I’ll keep you safe…” His breath was hot in your ear. “I’ll keep you happy… “

“Fuck!”

Those devilish fingers and those barely-there touches of his fingers had you tightening around him, your release coming up on your fast.

Steve pinned your hips to the bed, going at you with his fingers and his cock until you were crying out beneath him, his tongue dancing around your ear the entire time.

“I’ll make you come over… and over….” Steve whispered. “I can go for hours…”

Your core squeezed him hard as the world spun for you, fading around the edges as you rode your release out. All the while, Steve fucked you through it, stroking himself within your body with hard, driving thrusts of his hips.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he pleaded with you. “Love you… please…”

Your heart clenched as hard as your body did.

You wanted that. You _wanted_ to be his.

Just maybe you loved him too…

You could tell he was getting close when his thrusts started falling out of rhythm. The dirty grind of his hips against yours let you know he was seeking his own release. You thought he’d be content to let go without you but then those fingers began to move again, more of his weight dropped onto you.

“Tell me…” Steve whispered into your ear as his thrusts grew in strength, speed.

“I’m yours,” you whispered back, on that wave of release again yourself, “I’m yours, always…”

Steve let go then, shouting as he pumped into you, still managing to work you through yours with those talented fingers even as he fell apart above you.

You released a deep breath when he rolled to your side. The smile on his face as he lay there with his eyes closed and struggling for breath gave him an almost angelic look.

You laughed when he patted his chest and scrambled in the bed until your head lay there and the rest of you twined around him.

“Was that everything?” Steve asked between gasping breaths. “Or was there something… _else_ you wanted to talk about?”

You smiled, gazing up at your beautiful captor. The man who _decided_ he was going to be your lover, maybe eventually your husband. You knew if you wanted a say in how things went, there were going to be some battles.

If _this_ was how he chose to do battle with you, you knew it was pointless to put up much of a fight.

_Did you really want to?_

Your heart whispered _no_.

Rolling to prop himself up on an elbow, he gazed down at you, smiling. You loved that smile.

“There were a couple of points,” you replied, trying to regain your breath too, “I didn’t… get to. Like your beard...”

"You miss the beard, Sweetheart?"

You nodded, smiling.

“Really?” Steve rolled you under him, letting you feel he was already hardening again. “By all means… let me know what else we missed… but allow me to persuade you if I don’t agree…”

You smiled up at him. Did you really have a choice? 

“Okay,” you whispered.

“You said you were _mine_ ,” Steve reminded you, claiming your lips in a possessive kiss.

Yes. Yes, you did.

And you _were_ his.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got an anon ask on Tumblr which prompted this and I thought, might make a nice epilogue.
> 
> Also, working on a story in the world of Snowpiercer starring Curtis called Out of Darkness. 💖

**An Epilogue**

The world became a pretty wild place once the Avengers brought everyone back. After you’d been nearly killed by human traffickers right after, Steve barely let you out of his sight. It didn’t pose a problem until the Avengers resumed going out on missions to put out fires in the world.

As long as you were in the apartment, Steve was fine. Every inch of the apartment was monitored by the high-tech artificial intelligence system set up by Stark Industries. No matter where Steve was in the world, all he needed to do was access the system on his phone or access the internet to know how you were and everything you’d been doing since he last saw you.

You would have been lying if you’d said that the complete lack of freedom and privacy didn’t bother you at all. You often felt like a bird in a cage, looking out from the windows over the city. It was a nice view, but you missed flying.

You’d been gone for five years. You came back to a world that had moved on without you. Yeah, you knew that was true for half the population. You weren’t special. But you came back to no job, an apartment that Steve hadn’t wasted any time on cleaning out and releasing once you’d agreed to live with him, and no idea of what you wanted to do with your life now.

As far as Steve was concerned, your life ahead was _him_.

Your gaze landed on the gorgeous, old-fashioned engagement ring on your finger. The beautiful marquis diamond winked up at you from its gold filigree setting.

You really weren’t sure you were _ready_ to get married, but Steve had been relentless in getting you to accept it, to promise to marry him. Once you’d agreed, a lot of the pressure came off. Oh, he was still looking at houses in Brooklyn and planning a wedding. But a steady stream of important missions kept him away at least one to two weeks of each month and that slowed his plans down quite a bit. It gave you time to yourself.

You just wanted to get out once in a while. Was that so wrong?

That Steve invited Sam and Bucky over often to watch games and have dinner was a blessing. While Bucky was solidly in Steve’s camp where he was the man and you were the little woman, Sam was a good friend to you. He’d been looking after you from the beginning, always there to remind you that while Steve was a little overzealous, he was a good man who really loved you.

Sam was the one who helped you get around the system in the apartment to escape once in a while. With his help, you had “nap” times. Footage that ran on a loop that showed you napping for a two to three-hour period when Steve was gone on missions. Sam had gone over a list with at least 50 points of things to check and how to implement it, but it got you out for a trip to the bookstore or the coffee shop and Steve was none the wiser. _So far._

And then today happened.

You’d gone through the entire procedure, and it took forever, to get out of the apartment. You’d been to the bookstore, to the coffee shop, using the gift cards you’d allegedly sent to your sisters and her kids for birthdays and such. You’d just made it back into your apartment, carefully on your entry because too much movement would mess up the setting and tip Steve off.

“Where you been, Sweetheart?”

Your heart slammed in your chest at the sound of Steve’s voice behind you. _Why was he home?_ They weren’t due back for several days.

Swallowing hard, you turned around to face your fiancé. Everything about Steve from the anger flashing in his eyes to set of his jaw and the way he stood, hands clutched at his belt, let you know you were in trouble. He was wearing his uniform, the stealth suit, though he didn’t look beaten up or bloodied like he sometimes did. He wasn’t wearing his helmet either.

_What was going on?_

Lifting a hand, he ran it over his beard.

“Where did you go?” he asked quietly. Too quietly. “I came straight from the compound to surprise you.”

No use in lying now.

“I just went out to the bookstore,” you mumbled. “And I got a coffee… I wasn’t gone long.”

His gaze never left you. “I’ve been home for an hour and a half, so you’ve been gone at least that long.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him, your heart slamming in fear and… _excitement_?

The last time you’d been a little afraid of Steve was that Halloween when he’d pulled you from the bar where you’d been with your friends and…

“Sam, right?” he asked, moving closer to you. “He helped you.”

You nodded.

In the next beat, he’d wrapped his fingers around one of your arms, dragging you closer to him. Steve breathed you in, your hair, your neck. You shuddered, knowing he was making sure he didn’t smell anyone else on you.

When he seemed satisfied, he pulled you behind him into your shared bedroom.

Sex with Steve certainly didn’t lack anything. Since you’d been reunited, Steve was careful with you, handling you gently as he loved you.

But the hard, lustful look in his eye right now? You hadn’t seen that since…

Steve took a seat on your bed, glancing up at you. “You agreed not to leave the apartment when I’m gone,” he reminded you.

“Yes,” you said, hanging your head.

“About how many times do you think you’ve done this?”

You almost said that today was the only time, but you were afraid he already knew the answer to that question. Truth was best.

“Seven,” you muttered.

Faster than you could blink, Steve had hauled you over his lap, his hand dragging up the long skirt of your sundress. You felt the cool air of the room on your ass just a beat before he roughly tore off your panties. You watched the small scrap of fabric get tossed to the floor in your line of sight.

Steve _had_ spanked you before, that Halloween. Your thighs clenched as you felt his large, rough hand smooth over the globes of your ass.

“Count,” he commanded.

There may have only been seven blows, but he made each one sting, waiting a couple of beats for that pain to fade before the next one came. Your ass was in flames when you shouted “seven,” breathing through the sting.

Another blow landed. Before you could count it out, he cut you off.

“That’s for lying to me.”

Another.

“That’s for putting yourself in danger.”

Another.

“That’s for breaking my rule.”

Steve _was_ angry. 

“Is there anything else I should know?” he demanded, holding you off balance across his lap.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated.

“I know you are.” Steve tossed you easily onto the middle of the bed. “On your hands and knees, doll.” When you didn’t immediately move, he lightly slapped your thigh. “Up.”

You did as he wanted, your skirt sliding down to cover your sore ass. You heard his growl behind you, rough hands grabbing the dress and literally ripping it from you. Your bra was a wild snap of elastic as it was wrenched from you.

You heard a zipper and couldn’t resist glancing back at him over your shoulder. You’d always wondered how he got in and out of that uniform. Where it unzipped…

Steve’s gaze was heated, darkened and moving slowly over you, giving you time to look him over. His gaze was riveted to the flesh between your thighs and a hand lifted. You sighed in relief as his fingers slid around on the slick, wet petals he found. His other hand was working his cock in easy, smooth strokes.

He smirked then. Yeah, he was supposed to be punishing you, but you were _so_ worked up right now…

One hand pushed your head down on the bed, positioning you so your ass was in the air. He held you there as he sank into you, the stretch everything you craved right now as he slid in easily on your wetness.

When Steve began to fuck you hard, you struggled to catch your breath as he pushed you along the bed. He more than filled you, moving hard and fast, his other hand gripping your hips.

“Don’t you _dare_ come,” he growled behind you. “Not… until I say. And I may not… You haven’t been a good girl today.”

Then the bastard hit your front wall just right, pulling a desperate gasp from you as you struggled in his hold. He kept hitting it that spot within you, and you buried your face in the bedding, screaming as you clenched around his driving length. How were you _not_ going to come when he was doing _that_?

Steve drove on within you, his hips meeting your ass in a way that enhanced the sting, but you were beyond caring. You were going to come _so hard_ … and there wasn’t anything…

He stopped. Just. Stopped.

“No,” you sobbed into the bed. You were _so_ close.

“Shhh.” The hand that held your head down, smoothed over your hair, down over your back.

You were moving back against him, fucking yourself on him and enjoying the cool, smooth feel of his uniform against your overheated flesh. He allowed it for a moment, moaning as you slowly worked yourself on him.

You yelped when he pulled free of you and manhandled you onto your back. Steve plunged back into you, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head with one hand while the other slid down between your bodies to tease your clit.

Your entire being went up in flames. You struggled in his hold but weren’t able to move. Steve started riding your hard, a dirty contrast with the light way his fingers teased your bundle of nerves. He was almost completely dressed above you, smirking at your struggles.

And it _was_ a struggle. You needed to come. _Now_. You fought it with everything you had, whining and crying out. You were stretched out and desperate beneath him. Begging him for what you needed.

“Please, Steve,” you muttered mindlessly. “I’m sorry… So sorry.”

When you clenched around him, he abruptly stopped again.

“Please,” you pretty much sobbed as Steve watched you, beginning to look wrecked himself.

But that didn’t mean anything. He could drag this out another hour if he wanted to. Steve not only had great stamina, he was damn near insatiable.

Steve slid in and out of you slowly. “Will you break more of my rules?”

“No… please, Steve…”

“Will you sneak out again?”

“No.”

Moving your wrists so that he pinned them down to the mattress on either side of your head, Steve lowered himself over you and began a steady, urgent rhythm.

“I love you, Sweetheart,” he whispered low in your ear.

“Love you…”

“But so help me God if you ever put yourself in danger again,” he promised, his breathing labored as he fucked you, “I’ll edge you until you pass out and when you wake up, I’ll start over… I’ll ride you until you can’t walk straight for days… You understand?”

You would have promised him anything to get him to cure the throbbing ache deep in your center.

“I… understand…”

Steve’s hips began to move faster. “Come _now_.”

You felt as if you’d exploded from the inside. You screamed as the orgasm shook you like a rag doll, causing your entire body to seize in pleasure that took your breath away, had your vision fading. All the while, Steve kept going, chasing his own release and trapping you in yours as he held you pinned to the bed beneath him. It was only seconds before he was shouting his own release above you.

You were aware of him rising from the bed and you heard more zipper sounds. You couldn’t resist opening your eyes, watching him strip out of Captain America’s suit until he was as nude as you were. He saw you watching him, throwing you a smirk as he climbed back up to you from the foot of the bed.

“Someone’s got a couple of kinks we need to talk about,” Steve said as he stretched out on his stomach between your thighs.

“Huh?” You were still dazed from the powerful release you’d just survived. Why was he pulling your thighs apart?

“Was it the uniform?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of one thigh. “I’ve never worn that for you before.”

“Maybe?”

Your inner thighs quivered as he pressed a hot kiss to the inside of the other one.

“The spanking?”

It _had_ gotten you worked up.

“What are you doing?” You watched as he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled them wide, his fingers teasing the red, swollen petals gently.

“I’m home early,” Steve replied. “We’ve got some time… let’s see what else you might like.”

When he dropped his mouth on you and started to clean up the mess he made, you tried to close your thighs on him, to push him back.

Steve held you there, working you with his mouth while your hands wildly pawed at the bed, his hair…

You were in for a long night.


End file.
